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•i’m sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.

•tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more.

•every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out you will be alone always and then you will die.

•i talk to you as if you’re really there. are you there, sweetheart? do you know me? is this microphone live?

•sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud.

•here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all forgiven, even though we didn’t deserve it.

•you said love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like a religion. it’s terrifying. no one will ever want to sleep with you.

•the entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell. unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.

•we clutch our bellies and roll on the floor… when i say this, it should mean laughter, not poison.

•the dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.

•a man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.

•you thought if you handed over your body he’d do something interesting.

•you take the things you love and tear them apart or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours.

•oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.

•i went to the riverbed for you to show up. you didn’t show up. i kept waiting.

•i wanted to fall down right there but i knew you wouldn’t catch me because you’re dead. i swallowed crushed ice pretending it was glass and you’re dead.

•yes, i do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.

•there’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars.

•i have to search my body for the scars, thinking did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in?

•i will turn myself into a gun, because i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.

•a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

•desire, like a monster, crawls up out of the lake.

•we are not dirty, he keeps saying. we are not dirty…

•he’s trying to drive you into the ground, to see if anything walks away.

•there’s a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly.

•we have not been given all the words necessary. we have not been given anything at all.

•do we mean something when we talk? is it enough that we are shuddering from the sound?

•i will come back from the dead for you.

•i sleep. i dream. i make up things that i would never say. i say them very quietly.

•we have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven.

•i would like to meet you all in Heaven. but there’s a litany of dreams that happens somewhere in the middle.

•we have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes.

—

I’m sorry I let all of you down

Mental illness will try everything to convince you that everyone would be better off without you, and you are actually doing them a favor if you leave their life. This is a trap! Its only telling you this to make you more miserable, alone, and helpless, and you will NOT make anyone happier by disappearing.

I’m doing good. Way better than ever, really. But there’s this buzz at the back of my brain that never really shuts up, day and night. I started to face it more directly last year but it’s not easy. The last two days were bad.

I’ve drawn about all hard topics that hurt me, so I decided to tackle this one as well. One might ask the purpose of showing things like these to thousands of people but I find it cathartic in a way, to take it out of my brain for just a little while and quite literally put it into another physical place. I also think it’s important to speak about the things that make us afraid and sad. Whatever way that may be. So, thanks for listening.

my body dysmorphia as soon as i step outside:

money? yeah, you’re gonna spend it all on useless things like excessive amounts of food and clothes in hope of making yourself feel better. then you’ll regret it five minutes later

 you hate yet love everyone and everything. hate. love. hate. love. it’s a never ending, exhausting cycle of intense emotions. there’s no in between

someone doesn’t respond to your message in ten minutes? it’s time to make dramatic assumptions. do they suddenly hate you? are they dead? 

you’re slightly inconvenienced? it’s time to commit suicide

all your relationships fail and you just can’t seem to figure out why

 you feel like everyone is the same. you see the same pattern over and over again in your relationships and your friends

you feel happy for once? well guess what, in about seven minutes you’ll feel like throwing yourself into traffic because Johnny didn’t want to share his pencil with you

nothing is worse than the overbearing feeling of emptiness that follows you daily and haunts you like a ghost

you’re constantly angry. just the idea of someone breathing in your vicinity is infuriating 

baths? did you mean: self-harm hours? 

everyone is against you including yourself

who is that in the mirror? is that me? Why do I look like that? I can’t recognize myself

 i’m sorry, what did you say? repeat yourself again. and again. sorry, i didn’t hear you. again. repeat yourself for the fifth time, i wasn’t paying attention i guess

you’re useless unless you’re perfect

therapy? no

 oh, is that a character I relate to? let me obsess over them for the next nine months

 you’re the most evil and horrible person you know, yet simultaneously the most pure and naïve person you know

you feel like the devil when you say no to someone

how about I split on my best friend for the eighth time today for absolutely no reason!

am I abusive? am I like my abusers?

 they said something that seemed weird to me… are they going to leave me? Is this the end? Is this all there is? Should I leave them? Maybe I’ll just disappear

you hardly remember anything from before the age of 10

nothing is real. we’re all going to die. nothing matters.