i spill my heart out on here hoping to find someone who can relate to my problems, to know i'm not weird, i'm not strange, and that i'm not alone.
someone who can prove i experience things for a reason, that they know what this feels like
• what it feels like to have your eyes filled with tears at the most random moments
• what it feels like to just suddenly want to kill your dears
• what it feels like to wish to really be dead
• what it feels like to run out of options but to physically inflict just enough slashes and wounds to subside mental stress and regain mental stability but never enough for anyone to ever notice
so many
so many 'trust me i completely understand you's i heard, it only makes it worse.
because you don't
you don't.
don't say it just because i 'matter' to you
don't make yourself sound so fake
because it ruins the image i have of us
you think saying so helps comfort me but i think you're just trying to comfort yourself with the idea that you've helped, that you should feel good, that you're off the hook of dealing with me.
why do you keep hurting me if you care?
why can't anyone try to understand me?
it's three pm in a calmly destroyed thursday afternoon surrounded with damn familiar faces and i've never felt so broken
it's selfish
it's stupid
it's pointless
it's me
YOU ARE READING
Public Diary
Não Ficçãothe title says it and: trigger warning of suicidal language as much as you feel like you should judge me off of everything you read in here, keep your judgements to yourself
