ive been gone. well im back now. new school new people new exhaustion new awareness but mostly a new boy. i am addicted to his mind and how he envelopes me. all at once he reminds me of the ocean and the desert and the blazing purple of those goddamned flowers that get all over everything every year.

im sorry she said as she turned away from the mirror, but the glass in my veins just isn't letting up and wasn't it you who said one person can only be so strong ( Read more... )

broken souls and wills and hearts are strewn across my bedroom floor and sorry just doesn't seem to cut it anymore. my thoughts are yellowed photographs of bloodied and broken glass that slide to the floor to mix with scattered organs. my heart seeps through the cracks in the floor and ive got to wonder why im still here. why the twisted muscle ( Read more... )

i look down at my chest and think
a bullet hole would fit nicely here
and ill wear md death around my neck
so that everyone will see what my last moment looked like
(what broken bones say to naked eyes)

the concert last night was amazing. slaming into the pit as the music took me made the night perfect. i wish everyday was like that. i dyed my hair again. its orange and purple and black now and ill probably dye it again in a few days but for now i like it. still gotta get my grades up a bit more before i can transfer out of this hellhole, but im ( Read more... )

"Thing is, love doesn't hit everyone the same way. For some, it's instant -- love at first sight, or sniff, or wiggle, depending on the species. For others, it's a slow awareness -- one day, you're sitting around shootin' the shit with your friend or lover, and you come to realize that your whole universe is centered around just wanting to see him ( Read more... )

i need the feeling of my bones scraping against my skin. i miss is. its what i define myself as. i need to feel my stomach cringe again at the thought of food. fuck this psuedo-recovery. fuck being healthy. fuck being alive. fuch being here. im setting a goal weight. this is where i let go. this is where i disappeare. 113. lets see how fast i get ( Read more... )

broken souls and wills and hearts are strewn across my bedroom floor and sorry just doesnt seem to cut it anymore. my thoughts are yellowed photographs of bloodied hands and broken glass that slide to the ground to mix with scattered organs. my heart seeps through the cracks in the floor and ive got to wonder why im still here. why the twisted ( Read more... )

im sorry you didnt come intime ( Read more... )

"Do you still believe in fairy tales ( Read more... )