Skip to main content

Its 5am

 It's 12AM and all I want to do is scream.

I want to rip open my chest and pour out the extra feelings.

It's 1AM and I want to throw my bones into a black hole.

Slice the fat from my body and feed it to lions. 

It's 2AM and I want to pluck my eyes out with forks. 

Turn my skull into a beautiful bowl. 

It's 3AM and I want to bleed into the Red Sea.

Tear the flesh from my face and set it on fire.

It's 4AM...

It's 5AM and I want to disappear. 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Addicted

 I've never been addicted to drugs or alcohol before. But I'm addicted to people. I crave certain attention because of the lack of love I got as a child. At least that's what the internet and my therapist say.  I get angry at this boy. This simple, basic boy. This beautifully average, simple boy. I get angry with him.  "Why are you angry at him?"  Because he makes me smile. He makes me laugh.  I don't want to laugh. I don't want to smile.   It tricks my mind into thinking I'm okay. So I tell him, "You make me angry." Naturally, he asks me, "why?"  "Because I'm happy when I'm with you."  You see, the problem is, I'm not ready to be happy.  I'm not ready to be treated with respect. I'm not ready to be showered with positive attention. I was used to being sad. It felt normal to be treated like an afterthought.  So when someone comes around and doesn't make me sad, who doesn't make me feel like an a...

Thank you for destroying me.

"Again, you aren't sorry. You knew exactly what you were doing. you knew exactly what you were saying to me and you took advantage of my trust and you made me look like a fucking fool. I don't give any fucks what you do with your life now. You wont change. Everyone says they will change but liars will be liars.  You will probably lie to your therapist. I literally was trying to genuinely support you the best way I knew how. And I'm not fucking crazy for the ways I'm trying to help you. You like being a fucking sad boy for some stupid reason because it gives you some strange sense of attention that you don't get elsewhere. If you wanted to work things out you would have tried harder. If you actually cared about me like you fucking said you did, you wouldn't have done the exact shit I've cried to you about and you wouldn't have been a manipulative piece of shit. You are trying to play sad boy right now pretending like you had feelings for me but OH NO...