But Who Am I?

Not quite sure how I feel. I casually monitor who visits this blog, just because I like to know a bit of information. Most people don't stray far from this first page that pops up. Sometimes people will look at a few other pages... I guess if they are bored or whatever. It's cool t o see what search engine searches yield my page... but I generally just look at the stats and go on. Whatever, ya k now? Well, this is has been buggging me for a few days.... someone i n alexandria, va keeps viewing m y page looking at 50 or so pages at a time. I don't care if they do. I have nothing to hide, but I have to wonder what are they looking for in all my mad ramblings? Do they know me? Are they trying to prove something? And who am I for them to waste all t his t ime looking at my page?
Well, whover you are... I just kind of would be at a lot more peace of mind if y ou would make yourself known. Whether in an anonymous comment or tagboard message. Or an email....or contacting me in one of those million ways there are to contact me. I mean, I know I mean something to you. Whether its just mere interest or s omething else. I just don't want to be paranoid every time I s ee your ip..... and I can't figure out who you are. Even the isp is weird.... kay... well.... that's all.

Broken Up Thoughts... Don't feel like being personal

Don't feel l ike being personal. know you will check this sometime soon.
I'm in a really bad mood right now. You haven't felt the need to call me. When you did call me you couldn't even give me an estimate when you would be off. It's just my fucking evening off. I guess it doesn't matter anymore to you. My entire body itches every fucking night so much that i just lay around sobbing and scratching getting no sleep. I guess you aren't reliable enough to bring me a fucking tube of medicine for over a week since you got it. You probably used up the rest of it knowing you. Whatever, I guess I'm going t o have to get my own. Since you left me with empty promises. I'm not trying to be melodramatic.... but I don't think you understand that I can't take the fucking itching anymore. You fucking told me I could use your goddamn shit. This is going on like god.... I don't even know how long its been. All I know is I'm overworked.... haven't gotten hardly any sleep, and fucking pissed off at you and m y mother. We should have talked when y ou came over Sunday morning.... but we just fucked. As if, overdue sex can make up for all my feelings of mistrust. The thing is.... I think I've come to a point where I've actually accepted that you are cheating on me. You may or you may not.... I'm not going to fight that mental battle with myself anymore. In just the past few days, I've had a girl emailing me.... telling me basically that thing again where you wouldn't consider it cheating b/c you didn't sleep with her.... but you are acting like I don't exist so that makes me feel even more shitty.... your insecurities aren't an excuse for lining up someone else just in case we really break up... and then the fact that you had some whore hanging over you when you were supposed to be with me. I mean you complained to me about not wanting t o be out late... bitched at me for still being at sara's... then you w eren't even home when I got there. I guess being out till 4:30 in the morning isn't late? I guess I'm suppposed to just let the fact that some bitch told me to go home when I was talking to YOU just roll off my back. I guess I'm just supposed to ignore that you didn't even attempt to call me back until you got home. As if, you had to look cool t o your friends and not call back the bitch that hung up on you. It's okay, Mike, they already think I'm a bitch. You really don't have to m ake me look any worse to any of your friends. It just makes you l ook like a dumbass for dating me. You're out way later than is sensible every night.... and I'm supposed to just not expect explanations. Like tonight.... you supposedly started work at 1... but it's 10:45 and you haven't called me. I called your parents earlier and you weren't home. I suppose you're somewhere. Maybe you are still "working" or whatever.... maybe you got a hold of some friends and are hanging out with them. I'm sure I'm the last thing on your mind. I'm only good for when you wake up in the morning w/ a hard on. As if, whining about being horny is a turn on. I'm just so fucking frustrated right now.... I c ould go off on another 15 tangents.... but what good does it do? It doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't get through your fucking thick skull. You will always have firstly yourself on your mind. I think that's one of the few things I can always be sure of. I guess I won't see you tommorow... or if I do you will be mad at me for having plans to hang out with Cheryl for part of the night or whatever.... I'm just so sick of all this. It's too much for me to have to balance, and it shouldn't be so complicated. I really wish you could try hard to help and t ake a load off of my back.
I'm tired of being stressed, tired, depressed, and alone.

No Way

Blank stares into the wall,
Numbness, a stone facade,
Emotionless by force,
A terrified source,
Contemplating decsion,
Wishing intervention,
But those thoughts don't stray far,
Regret's always in mind.

Next day, same lifeless stare,
Wondering when this ends,
Long days with out a noise,
Knowing this was her choice,
A need for confession--
The lasting obsssession
Haunts her by day and night;
But still she carries on.

New year, and she's still scared,
Terrified of purpose,
Tormented with deadly remorse,
No sentiment is worse.
Than this reminiscing,
All the things she's thinking,
Doesn't know what she wants,
Lost passion and desire.

View her lost and sad state,
But do not come so close.
Notes of the life she took,
Dreaming to have one look,
How it would have turned out,
One way might have worked out,
But there's no way to know,
No way to compensate.