love to just get into some of your stories

i have no motivation to work my way out of darkness

i cannot scratch away the feeling of wanting to take my own life no matter how much i try to dig it out of my skin

i’m so humiliated to be myself

i want to mutilate myself

i picture this beautiful and simple life and the more i think about it the more it feels like an unobtainable dream

i don’t want to be around any of my family or friends

the only person i feel comfortable around is my boyfriend and even at that i am so embarrassed by myself that im scared

im so fucking scared and my parents don’t even care to hold me, i could fall apart and take my final breath in my bedroom right now and no one would check on me.

i see myself in the seagulls that hound the park goers for crumbs of their picnics

i cry for the roadkill i pass in the street, for i see my own body lying there, empty handed, stranded.

i cannot help but feel sorry for myself,

to grip handfuls of moss and see bugs as mirrors of myself.

i am the wind, i am brittle leaves, i am a deserted pond, overgrown with algae and tadpoles. forgotten.

i am a vulture and i am the mouse in it’s mouth.

i feel unworthy of the most innocent kinds of love,

i will never be the person someone looks at so fondly they feel the need to create for me, or search for me... and live.

passion feels so natural to me, everything i look at mirrors who i love. i pick things up, and i make things from scratch.. and i devote my time because i love,

and i admire.

i try so hard to be lovable without even trying