Unaware

I feel so alone. And empty. Like I can't get a grasp on reality. Or anything within it. Its tough to describe it. And Im afraid I'll go looking to fill that void with sex. I have a feeling that I will. I know I will. I already have.
But those are the things that I can't prevent. It's bound to happen.

I feel like I have a sexual deficiency. Like I am ... I don't know. Manipulating myself. and manipulating others.
Why is it so important?
What happened to me in the past? I think I've locked that all away, but you can't learn from your mistakes if you don't remember them.

I have gotten in the process of destroying almost all of my relationships with people. Well at least those closest to me.
Slowly but surely  eventually only a ghost of me will remain. As I decapitate. Slowly killing myself. Empty my vase and filling it with nothing. Filled to the brim with nothing at all.

I can't help but write cryptic. I don't know how to express myself in 'layman' terms. My philosophy is that layman terms don't really exist. People just prefer to pretend that they don't understand so that they don't have to confront the reality that stares them down on a daily basis, with eyes as black as the coal in hell. People dumb down what they say so that they don't have to really say it.

You know what I mean. You understand what I am saying. You can see past my utter vagueness into the truth clear as day.

My words are the only place where I still hold power. My voice doesn't exist anymore. So I write. It's the only way I can think. The only way I can understand. And I want others to understand too, how much they are all killing me.

I am not guilty alone.

I am not guilty at all.

I did not create this ghost shell that my soul resides in. It is only my temporary residence until I find a way out.

 So both you and I are unaware of what lay inside.