Blog

you would think that hating yourself is like treading water in a raging sea and wanting to die is like drowning but sometimes hating yourself feels comfortable and wanting to die like home

why are we only considered kind when we stay quiet? why do we have to keep their sins against us a secret? i want to exist in a world where i can be honest and still be kind

i was 6 when we metfriends at first sightyou said you shouldn’t stay longbut i wondered if you mightthe days turned to weekswith you still by my sideyou started to understand mewell, at least you tried i was 8 when i told you my secretof how i wanted to dieyou

i know that the voice inside of my headisn’t something to fear i know that the future it prophesieswill never come true i know that the voice inside of my headis just trying to scare mecontrol me i know the nightmares it creatively weavesdoesn’t define anything about me but one

i can feel the pain of a strangers lossintertwined inside of my bonesbut i can never seem to feel my own why can my heart be a friend to everyone it knowsbut abandon to care for the one it calls home?

do i matter to you?have i ever mattered to you? has there ever been a daywhere deep down in your soul you have needed me missed me loved me if there hasand if i dothen please tell me because i’m tired of living my lifeonly wishing it was true