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.