I envy the moon, for hiding so frequently behind the shadow of the Earth.
I wish I could do the same, sometimes.
I’m tired of hanging in this sky.
I’m sick of my solitude in a starless expanse.
So fair world, do unto me as a new moon, I beg.
Let me go behind your shadow this once.
And as the moon is so rejoiced when it returns from behind its cloak,
Let me, one day, feel the same.

ive tried and tried but

the simple fact is im just not strong enough.

i imagine taking it to my dad

the same way ive asked him sometimes to open jars.

could you do me a favour?

ive been trying for a while but i just cant seem to get it

wrap his fingers around the blade

can you be strong for me?

guide his hand over to my warm skin

it would really help me out if you can finish this off

make my body still as possible

all of this is to make it easier for you, dont you understand?

i love you, dont you understand?

but i just want to be cold, don't you understand?  

i need you, dont you understand?

You’re good at finding the things that will hurt you and french-kissing them behind the locked door of a school bathroom stall.

When you were 12 your mother found you with scraped knees and asked why the hell you run to things when you’re so intent on falling down.
It’s a good hurt if it bleeds and it’s the best hurt if it kills you.

If you don’t want good things, nobody can take them from you so you take them from yourself, the art of denying, of choosing bad choice bad choice bad choice until you’re dizzy with victory because yeah maybe you ruined your life but it was your life to ruin and nobody not nobody is going to control you like that again.

Who can hurt you when you’re already cutting the brake lines and setting fire to the engine.
Who can hurt you when you’re practically an artist at self-destruction.
Pain is clean.
Pain makes sense.
Pain is temporary.

Isn’t it all temporary.