Tortures of the damned

I feel like I experienced so much bad things, so much shit, hell, whatever, so many bad people in my life that I lived 150 years already. To me, I'm not young. I'm old. And I'm done.

There are no feelings left in me. I've used them all up.

Like a fucking empty shell.

Stop trying to save me
(I'm not worth it)

If I wanted your help, I'd ask for it.
If I needed your opinion, I'd ask you for it.

You don't really give a fuck, so stop faking it.

Hi.

We haven't talked in a while and it seems we have some unfinished business. I wish I could tell you how we should finish it but honestly, I have no idea. I know that things ended bad. Actually, not bad, just in a way neither of us wished, I think. You won't ever read this, and that's probably why I can be so open about it. I just wanted to say one thing; if you had stayed, I would have loved you. Why didn't you trust me?

My absence has a perfectly good explanation, but I can't seem to put it into words. Something about a feeling, something about living a healthier life... (Who am I kidding?) All I know is that I think I'm back, and I plan to stay.