unlovable for the last time I will hope that another will come along I hope that Looking out these windows is a sign that death is near and nearer than you I am so poorly written i'm sick of it
I’m scared I don’t want to meet someone 10 years in the future and have to do it all over. Who I am now is important. Who I was in my childhood is so important. I’m terrified of being so infinitely unknown I just want to feel home in someone or just somewhere I wish 'childhood trauma' didn’t have to ******* up so bad years down the line. Will it affect me forever? Will it linger as a part of me forever? Will it one day be so painfully insignificant that I can move on with my life like everybody else? Is that what I want?
Today is a day I never thought I'd make it to living every day knowing that no one is promised tomorrow yet wondering if there is life for me wondering if i might live for longer than a moment
New York has this certain smell that I just haven't gotten used to Although it isn't particularly bad Like old clothes and old land and Sewing needles and wool jackets That you bought at the thrift store While you were downtown freezing You could've sworn it was 60 degrees that day It smells of eating rice each day for lunch And cheap dining hall cake And the wind doesn't smell like the lake And the lake doesn't smell like the sioux And there's more color in the trees here And you can't help but smell that too
I think our souls have touched Though we haven't shared our names But your words have moved me And you've grown attached to mine And we brought ourselves here Because there's something underneath That we both want to explore
How can we be when you don't let me near you How can you wish i was near when i'm 10 minutes on foot away How can you dream i'm on your doorstep and lock your door
Firmly believing That the past doesn't dictate your future How do I advertise myself to you in that sense Whatever story I have to tell Is buried in the footprints I left on the way here
death's arms around me as if they've always been they cradled me in my childhood bedroom the warmth I recognize still they slow my pulse and calm me they lull me to my home, the empty
So I get it out of you at last And it occurs to me for the first time You search for that magical type of love You, who are unbroken I tell you, you are it for me
why can't i just be who ive always been but reinvent myself so that i dont face this world alone? why do i have to make myself convenient, conventional in order to be worthy of understanding
Time and time and time and Time again They guide you And even they discover That this isnt the answer This isnt the answer Every time There is only one end
a lot of people see me and decide they'd like to hurt me maybe let me smile and laugh until i'm cornered into that wall they like how they tower over they see my strength and they want to test the limits
I feel wrong in my age Wrong in that To be in any other body Than that when I was ten Is to stretch and tear and wear me down I am worn I feel old I feel my skin sagging over the muscle The muscle sagging over the bone I am the last breath of a murdered corpse I am the last of my friends The last of my family My lack of power Is shown through shaking fingers Protruding bones I am wrong
consistently revising the suicide note it’s now years in progress from the original draft, only a rare few words remain why write the note at all? I’ll wait until you forget
an antidote to worsen the symptom the day, once threatening the night, now laborious time passes as a slow & steady tide but there is no more time for me to wait there is no more good there is no more guilt only the weight, only the lack everything is tiring
my brain has begun to unravel the chords unwind and unknot suddenly my motivations are each their own separate branch separate root of which new inspirations sprout
it is hard to handle and i feel too plentiful too filled with words that have no time to express themselves
time is working against me in this moment it quickens so that these ideas never set foot my own mind whiplashing me into another moment when I was not yet finished with the last
Didn't think id make it this long Accepted that im done for Not sure if ill wake up but if I do What will it mean for me Accepted that im meaningless or at least dont want a meaning anymore I just want to be done for
I'm getting hungrier again fifty dollars to last the semester feeling illegitimate at the pantry, still I feel I'm not worthy of a free box of macaroni as if I don't deserve dinner tonight
It isnt too late for compassion And it isnt too late for hope You from the city Who comes from peace Knows no difference Between land and borders I come from the coldwar I come from plains And I've seen the real need To be unified To be free