𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝕴𝕴𝕴 || 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 ~ 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖒 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗

i feel disconnected,
my eyes are wet and i'm exhausted.

the world might've put me here just to bash my affectation,
towards people i love,
and make me feel like i'd done wrong.

how is someone trying to do so right,
doing so wrong,
and sometimes i really just wish... i'd hung
that night,
but i didn't and my friends and family assure that's alright.

i'm not sure, i still look for advice in my blood,
when i carve my skin like it's a normal thing i do this instead of saying,
'i'm not okay' and asking for a long hug.

but i think something's so wrong with me,
when i look at that rope and the tree,
and this pit of swirling thoughts in the back of my mind screams
'you really think they'd miss me?'

and i question the bottle of pills inside my bedside table,
but nothing helps me become more stable,
still, in the middle of the night, i'm hearing voices with my breakdowns...

and i play guitar to help soothe my withering soul,
this black hole inside my heart which i call home
and as i strum, my fingers bleed but pain has been what i need

and bite down on the razor blade between my teeth,
i've never regretted my thoughts about cutting deep...
so deep it never heals and maybe i never leave
but i guess my "friends" will always try to talk me out of it...

one of these days i'm gonna lose all my affection and maybe end it

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

||thinking|| ~ angel