there's this desire that poisons my blood
some kind of need - to be seen, to be heard, to be loved, to be noticed
it's builds with each beat in my chest
pushing my ribs out and unwelcome guests tell me over and over that i can't tell anyone anything
don't trust a soul
what kind of person talks about their feelings and doesn't assume they're annoying
how can i expect to be loved if all i am is a negative bitch
shut up about trauma shut up about disorders shut up about headaches before you become one
speaking about what's on your mind is manipulation if it's for a little affection and understanding
everything you say can and will be held against you
you have no right
but to remain silent
