(no subject)
this house has become my hell. i built it here brick by brick and took pride in my work. i admired my touch, my graceful pursuit. i have finished now and find it a dungeon.
i take them because i can be alive without the hassle of being alive. for once i dont want to think about every move you make. i know there are other ways but i dont care. you can only do whats right for so long. sin is human nature. forgive me for embracing my faults.
we havent went over my stuff because im afraid.
this journal is depressing because when im happy, people listen.
i have become obsessed with a face i will never know. i will never know anything of him except what he has left behind in others.
like a thick steaming breath pressed into a winter window i will explode, and flutter, and decay through waves of transparency, clear, unclear, and then slower i will stall my passing and become a stain, left to remind you of who i was, and like every eager soul the best of you will touch me, leave your line design upon me and with your hands on my soul i will finally subside, in good timne. But trust that upon a deep gasping breath i will return, with your hand in mind, and you will smile, in good time.
i dont know what to make of this, any of it.
i take them because i can be alive without the hassle of being alive. for once i dont want to think about every move you make. i know there are other ways but i dont care. you can only do whats right for so long. sin is human nature. forgive me for embracing my faults.
we havent went over my stuff because im afraid.
this journal is depressing because when im happy, people listen.
i have become obsessed with a face i will never know. i will never know anything of him except what he has left behind in others.
like a thick steaming breath pressed into a winter window i will explode, and flutter, and decay through waves of transparency, clear, unclear, and then slower i will stall my passing and become a stain, left to remind you of who i was, and like every eager soul the best of you will touch me, leave your line design upon me and with your hands on my soul i will finally subside, in good timne. But trust that upon a deep gasping breath i will return, with your hand in mind, and you will smile, in good time.
i dont know what to make of this, any of it.