I just killed myself tonight. What if it were all to end in a heartbeat. No note, no warning except this post, and nothing to point to as a definitive reason other than "she was sick." My parents would cry, not knowing where they went wrong, just like they always do. (They never did anything wrong, they tried they're best and I could never be what they wanted)
There will be proof of my existence though. The hair dye on the bathroom floor, the blood I've shed, my words scattered across various platforms on the internet, the love I've given, the filth I've spread.
And yet I will still be forgotten. No matter what I will be forgotten.
iām so so jealous of people who are naturally thin and can eat whatever they want because wdym i have to work so hard and ruin my own life just to look like that