is there even a point to this thing called life?

is it worse that i contemplate slitting over this or the fact ive always ruined every good thing ive had

fuck am i supposed to do now? is this worse than abandonment? should i have refrained? held back? should i be the one to disappear?

i shall one day leave this world the same way i came, covered in my mothers blood.

sometimes the meaning is actually in the lyrics.

i’ll burn the bridge that gives me hope of who we could be. i’ll stand and hurt and watch and cry, but i’ll burn that godforsaken bridge.

get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out get out get out you don’t belong here

something about new years has this grip on me. every year i make a plan to end it at the same time the fireworks go off so no one notices. maybe one of these years i’ll commit to it, but i guess not this year.

if ive ever done you wrong, don’t consider revenge. my biggest punishment is that i’m me, you don’t even have to do anything.

i hate watching this domestication of myself. im being stripped of everything that made me once untameable.

do i feel unloved for the reason i cannot experience my own love language?

the last you’ll ever see of me

i will bleed out like a lamb left for slaughter. you will be forced to watch the light leave my body.

i don’t want to be alone.

i wonder if i died tonight, would they miss me? would they be satisfied with the last conversation we had? i wonder what they’d say to me directly instead of about me.

not yet corpses. still, we rot.

im not literally starving, just. not eating enough. it’s essentially just a calorie deficit. there’s nothing inherently wrong or unhealthy about it. im losing weight and im exhausted enough to sleep at the end of the day.

the reason im losing weight and im so exhausted after work is obvious. it has to be, im using energy my body doesn’t have.

im starving but i can’t help it, the feeling is addictive. the satisfaction of eating just never hits me i guess.

little angel all alone at the bar, waiting to go home. shot glasses litter the counter, yet still not even a sign.

blind validation doesn’t fill the hole abandonment creates btw

i’m tired of talking

you don’t need to worry about me anymore, you don’t need to feel guilty about being happy. you deserve to be with her.

there are no happy endings.

dilute me, make me easier to love. teach me to bite my tongue until it bleeds.

suddenly it’s december, and you’re not 17 anymore. and you haven’t been 17 for a very long time, but sometimes you need to remind yourself.

you are the flesh maggots adore

im retreating back to foreign comforts, eating less, sleeping more, counting, and walking.

the loneliness isn’t as comforting as i remembered it to be. it’s cold and it echos, but this is what i wanted. for myself .

i realized you’re my only notification now, i frown. i think about how i should be happy about this, it’s healing after all — isn’t it?