The Sensation of Disregard.

My frustration builds up inside me to a point where I can feel myself change.
My jaw clenches and my skin itches to be torn; forget, for-long, forlorn.
Lost as I am, I settle into the sweet sensation of disregard.
I long for it to hold onto me until my dying day.
Lay with me until my breath subsides.
Guide me through grief unscathed.
But what would I become if I had nothing left to feel…

I understand that it’s my need to be validated that has got me here.
But even the deepest eyes take pieces of me.
The sad truth is, I’d give you all of me if only you would take it; but no, you give me just enough to see myself fade away… Until I’m nothing more than the pain you have left me.
I’m glad I made you happy.