Writing In Concrete

i spend so much time on the verge of tears, and possessed by all my fears. aches that stake my mind to the ground, and nothing good can be found just lost and as it walks through the door more hope falls.  i torture my heart, i put it through fake scenarios i begin to care about and get lost in depression when i shouldn't have went there.  i love torment, and i stay doormat in life.  i'm tired from dying of other deaths i've seen take place, and i repeat the same mistakes, its not a give and take.  being robbed by my idea of norms and repetitive songs that carry me away. i get lost for days and when i return i see the static nature of myself that i hate so much and it quells any happiness i might have harnessed while lost.  and i'm looking for someone to compel me with the grandest gesture, one worth storing forever.  like writing in concrete.  making a mark but never coming back, but the entire world can see it, and you can visit, but you don't need to because you know it's there.