i want to be pretty and i want to be vivacious and i want to wear ripped jeans and i want to have smooth skin and i want to be shorter and i want to have cheekbones so jutted i could slit throats and i want to dye my hair blue and i want to color my irises green and i want to stain walls with sadness and love and heartbreak and ruin them with holes and break my hands so i can feel my bones crack so i can feel something and be pushed up against them at 3 in the morning with a boy with his hands so tight around me and my legs so tight around him i feel ******* weightless and i want to watch the blood run from my wrists and thighs again and i want to say im sorry and i want to be confident and i want boys and even girls to love me and i want to stop hating myself and i want to stop ruining people's lives because i cant express myself and i want to write novels about strangers who wonder about the universe and why they matter in this insignificant world when nothing matters at all with coffee and paint stained canvases and i want to love someone and i want to grow up and i want to find myself and i want to know
who
i
am
and,

god.  

*i want to live