im not ever aloud to be happy.

Unlovable.

Maybe im unlovable.

Maybe my heart is one of disease and torture, not one of love as i had once thought.
Perhaps i dont make people as ecstatic as they do me.

Maybe i am a living tumor.
The cancer living in your heart. 
I am pulled away from you, but i come back every time.
For if i leave you, i feel i am no different to those who left me once before.

My own heart is in such pain when i read those words again.
I am struck down to the floor and the storm in my brain rallys up once more.
I ask myself, "What did i do to deserve this?" but i feel the answer is clear.

I fell in love with a dream.
One of a distant memory.
The moment it was gone, i realized the cruelty of the world around me.
For my own sadness is one that plauges the earths core.

I am asked often, "Are you okay?" but i havent the answer.
For my joy has been stripped away.
A fake in its place.

And yet, even as these hot, thick tears run down my flushed face, i shant tell you a single word.

My lips are shut as my eyes cry, my hand gliding over the page.

"Maybe i truly am unlovable."