𓂅 t o b y ˚. †

oh and the worst part is i feel it all the time. i don’t even know what it is. but i feel the terror, the disgust, the grime all over and it never stops. it is where i was birthed from, the hole i crawled out of. it is where you made me what i am and it is where we all end up. it is when i bite my lips til they bleed and when i pick at my scabs. it is the feeling of wishing those sharp, small pains onto you. it is knowing you should be hurting instead of i, and the only reason i am hurting is because of you and it. whatever it is. it is the blood beneath my nails that begins to rot, and when i smell it, it happens all over again. i hope you never escape it. it’s happening to everybody, but i hope it sees you, recognizes you, and is never kind to you.

i personally find like seeing someone’s nipples while they have their shirt on (like shirt no bra situation) to be very intimate

i live in god’s country but i pass by the devil’s signs on every street.

dude when i’m high it’s like. i feel my brain splitting open and grey matter turning into firefly’s or some shit idk ignore this i’m still high

took some blair witch photos in a old part of fort morgan today in my ethel cain shirt. i like to think she’d be proud

jack abbot don’t know how bad i need him

you ever sit outside on your porch and think. the bitch that fucked me over and made me this way is fucking miserable and i’m outside. so really who is winning