And I have promised to be the silence you will never have in your head. And I have made promises to always understand; and to know what to say. But I have never been torn apart so quickly by convenience and affection as you have done to me in 15 minutes. I have never experienced self realization as quickly as I have within 5 minutes of trying to make everyone feel good about themselves again.

I am merely a bottle of emotions that are never my own. I am merely an empty vessel of aspirations that I will never achieve; and I am filled with promises I make but hurt myself over.

I am merely the infected strip of plaster you put on a fresh wound: I am no good at anything. Every word you say to me will root itself under layers of skin. I cannot guarantee anything.

I cannot guarantee that the thoughts in my head were not conjured up by someone else seeking solace from me. I cannot guarantee that I know who I am completely.

How do I start finding myself if I cannot even affirm that my words are not from another.