Unhappy
Mom keeps telling me I can't let other people control the way I feel.
So they'll make a mess of the house I live in, they'll steal from me, they'll claim there are "rules" that apparently everyone else needs to follow except them... They hold these double-standards that make me want to burn this fucking house to the ground.
I haven't had thoughts like this in a long time--I thought about how easy it would be to run a knife over my palms and write all over the walls. Write, "Why do you hate me so much?" or even just, "Fuck you". I thought about pulling all the dishes and glasses out of the cupboards and smashing them across the walls. And a nasty part of me wanted to leave everything scattered on the entire kitchen floor with a message in the middle.
This is the way it feels
I look at the sink full of their dirty dishes and I can imagine it full of coagulating blood--at this point, I wonder if I'd care if they ever eat again.
These people used to be my friends. They're making me more unhappy than I've ever been in my life.
So they'll make a mess of the house I live in, they'll steal from me, they'll claim there are "rules" that apparently everyone else needs to follow except them... They hold these double-standards that make me want to burn this fucking house to the ground.
I haven't had thoughts like this in a long time--I thought about how easy it would be to run a knife over my palms and write all over the walls. Write, "Why do you hate me so much?" or even just, "Fuck you". I thought about pulling all the dishes and glasses out of the cupboards and smashing them across the walls. And a nasty part of me wanted to leave everything scattered on the entire kitchen floor with a message in the middle.
This is the way it feels
I look at the sink full of their dirty dishes and I can imagine it full of coagulating blood--at this point, I wonder if I'd care if they ever eat again.
These people used to be my friends. They're making me more unhappy than I've ever been in my life.