lex ✵

i think i was born wrong. faulty, incomplete. something is inherently wrong with me, and i’m not sure if anything can fix me

the worst part of my day is waking up

sometimes i wonder if i could have been happy if my circumstances were different

don’t ever say that i didn’t show any signs because i did. i begged you for help and you left me to die.

new year, new suffering

having to press my fingers against my pulse to remind myself that i’m alive; that my heart isn’t just dead weight in my chest

i will give and give until nothing is left of me

i can’t remember a time when i didn’t feel this way. maybe it started when i began to feel far too empty for a 12 year old girl, and the rusty boxcutter on the counter started to seem enticing

it’s hard to focus when everything feels like a dream

anxiety traps me within my own mind and tears me apart quietly

trying to live up to these impossible standards in my head to feel worthy of love is exhausting

i wish i could go back to when i was younger and tell that little girl not to pick up the knife