✰

Even tho I’m not the one panicking but on my soul they’ll thank me for it later

Them.

Slurred in speech and

Unmoving. No blood.no thought just there to

Torment.

And comfort in weird ways.

You don’t see me making stuff for sci anymore

And that’s fine with me.

But it’s getting stuffy with all these bodies.

….

Psh.

I don’t care.

I shouldn’t care

Neither should Des or the blonde guy or even fucking Hank for all I care

Deimos is far gone as long as I know it.

Kids been crashing with mirage and brick nd Misha

……

Lanky nd pen don’t care

I don’t think so

Coles burning out again.

So

I guess I need to do my own job

Breathing

I feel like a ragdoll

A ragdoll

Who can’t move

And feels all

And it hurts so bad to

Think that

I just

Can’t help I can’t tell how I feel that you’d have to take stitch cutters and open yourself up

Because I couldn’t possibly think of doing so myself

And it hurts to love

It hurts to hate

I scream because this isint where I’m supposed to be

Im supposed to be in collage.

Im supposed to be happy making friends and doing art

Im

Supposed to move out

But I hate how my mom cradles me to this false sense of identity

It’s not me.

……I felt pushed to go on that stupid fucking date with a 33 year old man.

Who then joked he could be the same age as my dad at first.

…..

Then spoke about sex

I hate people

I hate people j hate them

Nothing but HATE I TELL YOU I HATE EVERYONE I HATE YOU ALL I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I WISH I DIDNT HAVE TO HATE YOU BUT IT HURTS ME TO LOVE SO MUCH IT COENSIDES WITH MY HATE

Music being heard through moments of little to no stimulation world fading in and out with no solution but to lay there and wait for my ends to meet

But it never will

The world will keep turning

And soon there after

Agony.

It won’t matters who’s under who’s over and who’s looking down at the coffin.

…your playing dead one way or another

And you’ll wake up.

No matter how much you bleed

How much you feed it

It’s not satisfied and your not satisfied

No one’s satisfied

If I could point fingers I would.

But I don’t like too

Because I know the truth.

And I lay there

Taking injustice like it was my cross to bear.

Taking my life away as if I was just a sentient doll living in a fantasy.

It hurts me

And that’s a common theme

Hurt

Injustice

Tolerance

Cycles in which I hope to break but never will

And now I’m

Scared

Do I scare people?

This

I entire novel worth of a thousand words worth of dumping my thoughts onto

Do

I

Scare the them?

You wouldn’t even know how bad I am until you had a camera on in the room

But eventually I act for cameras too

Too sweet for this too full of gullible senses for anything and no one takes me serious

No one

and you want maturity?

You got it

You got it so bad that some think I’m older than what I am.

… and I’m starting to think they like the age difference more then they let on.

And it scares me

I hate sex

I hate …. Hands on me I hate the thought of actively screaming in my head that “it’s not Me”. And how I don’t want this …. Because it’s true

I don’t

I

Don’t know what will make me happy if I feel as if I already failed so soon in this life

It’s melancholy with relief

A novel of misery brought to you written by my own scared hands of how

….badly. I want to change. But don’t know how. To

I feel as if I changed a million times over.

But it’s not enough. If some new version of myself

Has its own sets of issues preventing me from seeing and learning what I need to.

And it’s stupid

It’s stupid on surface level but fear runs far deeper than you think.

Far

Far deeper

And I’m paralyzed by it

But I need to shut the fuck up sometimes

I so need to

I admit it