They Look My Life And Let Me Live

One day we shall grow wings

One day we shall feel free

The thoughts that drag us down

Rip our skin

And cloud our skys

Won't be able to touch us

We will be above the clouds

In a place that no one's seen

The people who spit in our faces

Prod at our hearts

And watch us sink low

Won't be able to touch us

We will br above the clouds

In a place where no one's been

There no tears shall be shed

Except for ones of relief

And our hearts will open

We cant feel pain in the palace in the sky

Will you hold my hand as we fly?

One day we will grow wings

i want to get my shit together so badly

i also want to just give up

i’m not getting better anyways so why not get worse

Wilted Flowers

They’re pretty, but I’m afraid to touch them— I know they’ll crumble the moment I do.

I think they’re beautiful. Beautiful because they don’t last. Beautiful because they’re broken.

And I like shattered glass: the way it reflects anything you shine on it, the way I can see myself in the pieces— not whole, but fragmented.

I know I’ll bleed when I reach to touch it, drip the contents of my heart across smooth faces and edges that seldom forget.

And I like coffee. I drink it with cream to soften the bitterness. But I never add sugar— too much sweetness makes me sick.

It keeps me up when I should be asleep, telling secrets I should’ve kept, dreading the grinds at the bottom of the cup.

But I guess some things aren’t meant to be held for long— they bruise, or cut, or run out the moment you reach out to hold them.

I don’t mind so much.

Because wilted flowers aren’t soft... but they are pretty.

i have the urge to hurt myself every single day. it's all i think about and yet i don't. and then i hate myself for not doing so.

I feel... wrong for not being covered in scars and not taking control of the uncontrollable. i don't know how to explain it

"Are you ok?" I'm actually tired bro. From the bottom of my heart I'm tired

Sorry for going through every emotion known to man within an hour

It will probably happen again

https://open.spotify.com/track/7nDXmx3FuyeX7FI7PFl2iX?si=zBZfsEEvTiiy12DaBF_7-w&pi=LLnJFW-LSC-78

every year i reach new lows and wish i killed myself earlier

Tw sh talk

I need to slit my wrists

I need to watch the blood run down my arm

I need to watch my skin forced apart

I need to feel the stinging as I slice my flesh open

The release as pain is the only thing I feel

I need to watch the scars form

I need to feel the sting when I shower

The pain as it rubbs against my clothes

For this is my punishment isn't it