There is no we in giving up. There's only what could have been and that glass bottle that held my tears.
I never remember him drinking them. Just that i had cried so much they were gone.


I slid into my body trying to barricade myself behind scar tissue. I had to stop them from bombarding me with silly questions and lies. "Like ummm yeah I'm alright"


I twirl my hair and twist. I close my eyes real tight and shake away the memory of his grip. I cant ever really escape the things ive seen because like they say once its over we cant UNsee

I wish i were dead but i also wish that i didn't wish that i were dead. You dig?
So now that we have giving up my mouth is tasteless.

I think its been for a while and i was just so caught up in emotion i couldn't tell but we... I mean me. I don't have much time for feelin things anymore.

I like to think that we all die. You do it yourself ir life does it for you... But maybe life lays out your instruments and shows you clips on how to end your suffering because that's her way of saying goodbye.

She lets them know they're going because she's cruel. She only gives some a clean break... A sudden stopping of the heart. But I dont get that privilege i guess.