I've sewn my mouth shut again, maybe if it stays that way, I'll slowly fade from your eyes.
What do I do?
Why haven't I learned to repeat the words I've practiced in my head?
They'd do more damage outside, in real life but I'm far to terrified.
I wanna climb back into the bathroom, it's where all of them hide in the drawers.
But I don't want it to be a immediate resort, I can't calm down though, you'll help me right?
I sort of wanna die and I sort of wanna survive, I can't figure out which is right and who it will hurt the worst if it's tonight.
I made a mess the other night.
Cold blue markers marked words on my thighs.
Blood red pens made blood on my arms and wrists.
I told you I was cleaning up, but what I wanted to have to clean up and what I ended cleaning up, were two different things.
I crawled up and covered up underneath the blankets suffocating my skin.
I wanna hold out my hand in the cold air but it's to cold out there so I can't stay long, cause obviously you're not here to keep me warm.
