Black Hole

So many mistakes.
So irreversable.
So many things lost and torn away.
I'm so empty.
There is completely nothing left of what was.

I'm surrounded by shells of those I loved.
Angelic people that this plague that consumes me has long since siphoned all the essence out of them.
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
I'm sorry for your pain and your loss.
I mourn for things that once were.

God, I can never apologize.
I can never summon the words to my lips to explain the existance of someone like me.
In no society, present or past, is there an excuse for all that I have done.
I know its impossible to believe that I'm only now learning it's not acceptable to drain everyone to fill this vast and never ending void that is me.
I'm an emotional blackhole.

The very thought of someone loving me terrifies me.
I know I will just ruin them as I have the trail of shells behind me.
Destruction follows me home; It follows me everywhere.
I have ran for so long, and I can never escape it.
While I run, I'm so selfish.
I'm so blinded by my own fears and inadequacies that I never see what I'm doing until the dust clears.
When the ashes that were once the souls of the people I ran over settles, I'm left alone-exactly where I began.
I only pause long enough to catch my breath before scampering away again.

It's not that I don't care.
Infact, I feel too much.
God, why can't something fix me.
There is no one or no thing to quell the ache.
I'm not even strong enough to do it myself.
Please just make it stop.
Make ME stop.
I would give it all, everything, away for someone to cure me.
Someone who understands me.
Someone who won't commit me.

Just lift my head from this desk.
Dry my face in such a way that the shame doesn't flood and drown me.
Grab my wrist, take them somewhere they are safe.
Pull ME into safety.
Don't ask me to be strong, and don't ask me to pretend to be strong for your sake.
Tell me I'm okay.
Don't let the waves of disgust at my weakness batter me any longer.
Let me know I'm not a failure; I'm not useless.
Use your best lie and charm if you must.
Just know that my self worth is lying on your fingertips.

I realise no such person exists.
The idea of me being complete is just that- a fantasy- an idea.
All i have left to do is fold inward.
Implode into the emptiness.
There is no one left to run to, and nowhere new left to run.
I have trapped myself, and now I must lie in the bed I triggered.