so that’s why you settle with friends who treat you like crap. that’s why you chase after heartbreaks in the form of long hair and lop-sided smiles. that’s why you’re on your seventh cigarette. that’s why you don’t want your scars erased, why you stay in a place where nobody asks if you’re okay and call it home, why you write wretched poems about bleeding wrists and tripping on *** bottles from last night.

darling, you hold onto pain. you hold onto pain, because you no longer know what it feels like living without it.