THere's no reason for me to ignore anything. THere's no reason for me to stop and stare into a thousand broken shards of a mirror and wonder "What are you?" No more. There is nothing but no one hidden in the meanings of myself. Maybe I'm made to do this game where i destroy countless hearts and drag them through the swampyard of my mind. Maybe I am made to do this stupid game every time I get to close. I've done it to too many people. I'm just tired of this. I want all the guns unloaded on me. Just tell me what I am. I want to know what I need to know how everyone feels. Why? Because I am tired of caring. I don't want to think about what others think. I don't want to care anymore. It is me who decides my life. It is me who does what I desire. I am the failure. I am the disgrace. No more complaining. I just say it now. I am only fiction. The great lie of your mind. I am only what you make me, or what I make you make me. Perhaps I'm just another broken human, living the inhuman life of wasting away for tommorow. No, I am nothing but no one, another failure at hearts and the winner of every dark spade, the shovel I used to kill my mind and the same I will use to bury away what ever is left a broken dream called "humanity". I don't have it. I don't have the will power to grasp it. My tounge is the slithering weapon I have used to degrade the minds of others like a decomposer in the soil that I have made from the horrid spew of deciet. I stare through the eyes of the devil around a little peep hole into the life you put on display. Have I pried into your heart? Do I know your secrets. Don't answer that. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. EIther way, I am just another enemy to the world we build. My world is that inside my broken skull; an empty reflecting pool that is now used as the bar-b-que pit to cook all your little flaws in, all for the enjoyment of whatever devil lurks in the sanctuary my heart once claimed.