The moments I spilled my truth to you, the fragile flame I call hope had finally emerged from the deepest cracks I call me, and cried for help.
I don’t do it for attention.
Okay maybe i do it for “attention” but when you call help “attention” it makes it feel wrong.
I remember when I realized she was telling on us.
i know when I walk late at night and the quieted light I call life, inside me, flickers weakly and posts my 2, 3, 4am walks for anyone to see she is screaming for help
I realized one day those walks were filled with hope of an inevitable demise. These sidewalks have no place for any being at hours when demons creep but i'm so comfortable under the moonlight with my demons in tow. ******* help me
One of the most dangerous signs for me is when you think im fine spoiler alerti dont think ill ever be finebut
You see me in public. You see me smile. You see me reach out and make plans.
This my dear friends is my goodbye
Just to make your last memory sweet because it’s all you ever wanted for me But so unattainable.. Until now