you'd never think it'd be normal to be afraid of shoelaces but here i am like you have no idea how much desperation it takes to think you know i could totally use these as a noose, knot them there, tie them here... it's absolutely ridiculous and the morning after you've destroyed your thigh and then wondered why like what exactly is it that's going on in my head i know there's a six year old napping and coloring whom no one believes exists and i know i'm in there somewhere even though i have no idea who that is or where they came from i just know that they're buried in there somewhere and tighter tighter tighter tie me tighter i just wanna escape it all and i know it's just part of life to live through and it will make me stronger at least that's what I normally tell other people but how much of a hypocrite am i if i can't even control what goes on in my head or believe my own words how can i act how can i drink how can i sleep how can i live without some sort of control i mean i can control how deep i cut and how many times but I can't control a six year old's temper tantrums and sudden urges to color and I can't control the minds of people around me who matter but don't believe my words when I guess I haven't given them much reason to trust me in the first place but i mean haven't i given you enough in the first place by living and not dying when you leave me alone in my room at night with nothing but my headphones you trust me to not **** myself when i cannot talk to whom i need and get what i need from my very own parents because they won't even listen so how can i even begin here and now choke it's getting harder to breathe and i can't stop staring at my shoes and wondering if the starchy strands would make a good necklace and if a doorknob is high up enough and i know it seems like i wouldn't go through with this but i swear i would and it's not for attention it's an escape an escape from reality and what i'm facing i know i have no backbone and that i'm a total wimp and that there's no way to get through your problems other than to face them but i feel too weak too leechy too overdone i've been left in the oven too long i'm burnt and charred the light rememberance of a human being too cowardly and weak to stand and maybe the six year old part of me sputter is becoming me and i have no control over that either and all i can do is just sit here and breathe in and out and in and out but i don't really feel it and my heart isn't in it though my lungs are for the moment and i really just really want to die.