And again and again and it hurts and again and i’m trying and again and more
suddenly my hair seems very pullable and my walls seems very punchable and nothing’s really making ******* sense my hearts beating out of my chest somethings very wrong but it’ll pass it’ll pass i guess
breathe just breath and i do and calm comes over me for a split second a breather but it’s a coach telling you “Another lap”
and then it rises again over me all over and again and again and it’s hurts and again and i’m trying and again and more lungs expanding more than my ribs can take but not enough for a full breath tears march down my face and my nose drips into lakes how much longer how much more
the last weep the last sniffle the last self inflicted wound of the night silence tic and toc meet greet each other again and again and.
my heart starts to stutter shape shifting into shaky shards of nervousness your words sing out to me softly and surely soaking the side of paper i write ****** poetry on influencing sonnets of pure sin carefully sultry and swift soon to be words of action
mush i feel like mush disgusting mush mush that’s been left out too long and you can’t refrigerate again i feel revolting and disgusting i’ve come to terms with the fact that i need to invent a sophisticated enough word to express the hatred i feel for the body that i’ve been cursed with and you’ll say it’s the body you love infinitely every stretch mark, hair, roll, and dimple in my mind, i find you absolutely ludicrous i doubt your words and ****** remarks i think “you have horrible taste” how could someone so perfect love someone so imperfect in my heart, i know it to be true that i am not as hideously tragic as i see myself but the mind is so cruel insecurity is so tragic
Love isn't always butterflies and snow cones It can be bee stings and low groans Sometimes difficulties swallow the ease of smiles At its lowest, it can be worse than getting lost in grocery aisles Triumphing through the days where my patience is tested Are the days are simply worth rejoicing Because love isn't always bee stings and low groans It can be butterflies and snow cones