I am fucking plotting my death as the party goes on. I'm so tired of pretending to myself that I am fine. I'm so mad. So very mad. They feed me lies. They do not love me. They don't even care about my life. I don't need their love. I hate myself for caring. I hate myself for lying to myself. I feed myself lies. I'm not okay. I want to die. Drown and never come up to the surface.
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Infinitely Broken
Ficción GeneralI'm not sad anymore, right now at least. But when I am, I am fucking crying in my grave. No one to see me, no one to love me, no one to help me. Except I'm still alive. So I spend my time dreaming of disappearing completely.
