Cotton candy dreams

I thought I was killing myself. That was alright, because no one was getting hurt but me.

But maybe you're the one who's slowly letting me bleed to death. 

Every time I say goodbye to you, the pain gets worse and worse. You saw how much it hurt me. I was there, on my knees sobbing, and you just sat there. 

"It actually gets easier every time" 

More poison, more pain. You may have just as well have stabbed me in the chest saying that. And I will play it over and over and over and over and over in my head. And you will have stabbed me over and over and over and over again. 

You offer optimism, which I cling to so desperately. I cling to a hope that isn't even mine. I cling to your plans, your timing, your life, while I do everything possible to give you mine. I cling to your optimism and it's slowly pulling me farther away from ever being with you. It destroys the part where I give you all of me. You don't want me. "It gets easier every time". You don't need me. My dream of you wanting and needing me is turning into a nightmare. And my nightmares are becoming reality.
I gulp away the pain. I push it away. I'll keep on pretending, dreaming, hoping. I'll be blind to the signs. Being with you completely, giving you all of me, has been all I've wanted for so long, I can't actually dream up anything else. So stab away. Separate me further from my dream. Bleed me dry. I'm just a stupid girl with a stupid dream. And this stupid girl is used to pain now.