5am

You dont understand what its like to live in your head. You havent the slightest fucking idea. To have person after person open up to you and cry and bawl and stay up all night with you telling there secrets. Your different. They tell me. Your special they say. Dead in the eyes. None of them blink. Hannah, they say. Why dont you believe me? I never answer. I dont need to. There not listening to me. There only hearing there own voice. Noones ever listened. This is new and exciting for them. For a week. Maybe 2. If im lucky. And everything that was cute and made you smile a week ago now gets on your last fucking nerves and youve got nothing left to say so you dont say anything. So now you feel stupid. Cause you swore your not the same. You have the epiphany i did a long time ago. We are all the fucking same. And we are all full of shit. And when we want something we turn into angelic monsters. We put on a disguise. Stare me in the face and lie. I wish i could hold up a mirror from now on. When people talk your false hope and promises of love and being treated correctly. I wish i had a mirror so the next asshole that says the same exact line with the same exact puppy dog face, ill cross the days off the calendar. And when you run for the hills, i hope you see your desperate lying face crying on my shoulder. Begging me to love you. And i hope you sit on the edge of your couch at 5:45 in the morning out of nowhere, for no reason at all, and realize what a terrible, sickening, just like everybody else that says there not like anyone else full of shit you are inside. And how you looked through me like glass. Not at me. Not to me. Behind me. Beneath me. You never needed me. You needed anyone. Im so glad i could be convenient for your pit stop. Thanks for stopping by. Your welcome for all the direction.