It’s a sad, beautiful, miserable, wonderful thing to know, to know you’re broken. Broken inside. Bittersweet madness you couldn’t fully fathom. Really comprehend. It’s sad but you can’t really do anything about. It’s just a phase. This too shall pass. Can’t wait for it. How much I wanted to know when, how much it really matters to me, when this will end. I hear violin sirens and sex and love. And how lost I truly feel inside. I wish for it to end. But I truly don’t know how. I wished for help, yes, wishful thinking, for my knight in shining armor. Or at least an armor, even though it’s not a knight and it doesn’t shine. I hate this word porn. How it graphically paints my misery. And how it doesn’t make any sense.