We are Crumbling

i've kept everything away hidden from you for so long i have become old and outdated ruined, so fragile, antiquity i cannot think to speak of it for fear of erasing everything all of my accomplishments have grown as cold as my attitude but, the longer i wait the more i hate to hide myself so alike, in truth, i am to everything you never wanted sometimes i am so afraid of you and judgement and your hatred of my sensitivity loathesome, vile insecurity but sensibility leads me to believe you hide things, too i feel it in my skin, beneath me tearing from outside like the ghosts of all the lies the ones we've told so many times and all i can do is try to ignore the sting and sound of tearing flesh and breaking dreams drawn back to the pain, itching for more aching to be closed and rid of this the attentive irritation, scratching at my wrist and chest and eyes and legs and thighs and neck bleeding until there is nothing left, but still you conjure more a torrent of escape that leads me nowhere numbs for just a moment so i can't feel you eat my heart away with your disease lacking immediate gratification, but a willingness to please also lacking pain, for apathy drains memories so we don't remember remember? when you asked me not to cry?