They say, promises
Are meant to be broken
But here I am trusting you
Holding on the words you say
Touching your fingertips
Admiring your laudable lips
You kiss me until I can't breathe
Sorry, but I am your hostage
Your slave, your love
But all the words you say
I always had doubt
Saying it's not true
Yet I've been lied to
Words will remain words
Your actions are proofs
I love you
But what the hell did I do?
To received lies?
You're a deceiver
In disguise,
I gave you my smile, now
You can't get me back
I love you, and I don't to
Be deceive by a person like you

Orange Victoria.

Before friday- ate some thorn pizza, smoke, watched some Doc Who.
Friday- battled with an unconscious ghost, hosted a party for most of my guests, one person came.
Yesterday- walked to the store, stepped in hot tar, got blisters under my fingernails.
Last night- soaked my blisters in psilocybin, saw Jim Morrison.
The morning after- woke up at 7, played on the guitar, had a smoke, had another smoke, watched the X-files.
Today’s evening- Stood in the same place for a while, I’m still here somehow, smoke, dishwasher, Lost my real leg in a fire.
Tomorrow- wrote all about it.
.
.
Well I guess I’m doing fine.






Garrett Johnson.

“So, what’s the case?”
‏                    “Regret, stupid ******* regret.”
“Anger talked in your place?”
                     “Including hate and more hate after being set.”

Finally deciding to show that I am not ok.
Uncovering what I was so good at hiding.
Expressing in the wrong way,
Always had me ended up crying.

I had to say what I was supposed to hear.
The unbearable was mine to bear.
There is nothing between the truth and the lies but thin lines.

Hate ran through my vines,
One that I wasn’t capable of holding.
One thing was for sure; I was terribly hurting.

No one is every the villain of their own story.
Nevertheless I was the villain in mine.
By the time my tears were wiped in the lobby.
I had built an impossible wall to climb.

5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?

What's your name?
You're a so so-so so-and-so.
For reasons you say you don't know,
you'd always find me feeling so low.
Is it you? Or my love for you?
In the morning, I'm mourning.
Wondering if something
would change.
My sorrow's soaring,
hovering till the end;
my doom.
Won't you you save me
from this gloom?
My heart has no room
for it but you.
Is it you or my love for you?

Instead of comfort you were the monster that lived under my bed
Instead of being security you unhinged my life and buried the screws
I wonder if you know you are a reoccurring nightmare
I wonder if you know how you make my skin crawl and my hairs raise to the sun in an attempt to escape the darkness