(Source: sheandherdarkness, via upsetpuppy)
Why is it that that nobody wants to rescue me?
Why can’t anyone reach out to me? What is it that I did to the human race?
Everyone has already left, doesn’t care or is too busy. Everyone has better things to do.
“What’s the point?” I say as I throw coffee down my neck at seven AM.
“What’s the point?” I say as I throw a handful of sedatives down my throat at seven PM.
“What’s the point?” I say as I drag myself out of bed and into the bright but bleak outside world.
“What’s the point?” I say as I drag a razor blade across my skin in tiny, quick strokes.
“What’s the point?” I say to my ‘friends’.
“What’s the point?” I say to myself.
i love her and she loves me but its not in the same way
it never is. it never will be
I live in a world of drugs, beauty products and mild kidney failure.
The anxiety of it all bites away at me, the overdoses piling up to make it go away.
Cigarette smoke lasts longer than some of the thoughts in my head now.
I don’t know where it’ll end, I don’t even know where it started.
I wish for someone to fall in love with me when I don’t know what love is.
I’m a mess. I’m a full-blown mess and I don’t care.
don’t tell me you love me or kiss me gently or hug me or hold my hand until after you fuck me and tell me i’m disgusting
looking at the two names
entwined
on my computer screen
made bile rise in my throat
my hands shake
and my heart race
i needed someone to screw me, fast
think of faraway places when you think of me. i’ll be there soon