have you noticed how since you strayed away from * everything has gone downhill? Have you noticed how your hands shake, how your ears buzz, how your chest pulsates, how your feet feel light, and your head feels foggy? How your eyes are never dry anymore? I have. Time keeps running, running, running, rolling, advancing, aging, never waiting for you to make those puzzling decisions. I have noticed how your face changes over days, over hours, minutes even. How those bags under your eyes are popping because you've put too much weight in them? I've noticed how those breakouts in your pretty face just keep on, well, breaking out. But have you? Have you noticed your mother's lips, how they bend, and the way her eyes look up when you walk in the room, delivering nothing but good news, nothing but those lies that you work so hard to swallow? Have you noticed how you roll in your mattress, this way and that way, every night, every time the light hits your eyes, every time you get up in the morning to quiet that alarm clock that demands you live? Have you noticed how you always grip that specific spot in your sweater, right where your heart is? How you clutch it, like you're scared it's going slip right out? Have you noticed how you hide your every move, how your eyes shoot in every possible angle to make sure no one is behind you? Have you noticed how you stopped being you? How you caved in to that strong feeling, that urge that demanded you sin? Have you noticed how impossibly unhappy you've been since you caved? How those memories of nakedness haunt you, waking you up every fifteen minutes (if you're lucky)? Have you noticed how your life is a whirl, a disappointment? Have you noticed how hard it is for you? Do you know how much trouble you're putting your heart through? Have you noticed how sad you are? How unhappy you are? How miserable you are? How you don't feel good, how you feel like such a liar and a hypocrite and a two-faced disgusting excuse of a person, how you feel like you're setting up that red room for your mother to walk into after? Have you ever seen inside your trashcan? Seen those crumpled up tissues from those nights or every night you barely survived? Have you noticed death's appeal? Have you heard it call you lately? Because I have. I've seen the way you space out, the way you stare blankly at that changing traffic light and do nothing, not even move, not even breathe. Not even think. Not even care. It's eating you alive. Have you ever wondered if you have the balls to confess? Because I have. And I know you. Have you ever stopped wondering what others will think? Have you ever seen yourself as a sinning son of a bitch? Have you ever hated yourself, like you do now? Because I know you haven't. Has anybody ever broken your heart like this? Because you blame all those motherfuckers but you never blame the biggest one of them all: you. Have you noticed that it's you that does the most damage to that fragile heart of yours? Have you noticed how you try to control your breathing, but end up even more panicky? Have you noticed how you've grown up? Did you notice that moment when you stopped being you, and became this monster, all of a sudden? Have you? Have you noticed how you shut your eyes in the most unbearable moment of pain? And wish to die? Or to start over? Have you noticed how hard it is for you? How unbearable it will be for others? How this means...death?