Me when I read a XREADER fic and by the end reader ends up dead or broken up with, like how am I meant to feel now. Or when you find out a fic that’s meant to be multiple parts is only 1 part or forgotten about:
I'm trying out poetry?! I'm going through a really difficult time right now and I'm trying not to bottle up my feelings
tw: talk of suicide and method
the first time I tried to kill myself I was about four years old.
it's quite easy to pass it off as a mistake, as if I didn't know what would have happened. that's what the people who would've examined my body would have said.
such a shame, she was so young, couldn't have known.
I knew.
after all, every action has an equal or opposite reaction.
four years old.
I couldn't spell.
I couldn't count.
I couldn't tie my own shoes.
but I knew.
I knew if you held something over your mouth and nose long enough you wouldn't be able to breathe, you would die.
most people develop depression as they grow up, I guess I was just born with a chemical imbalance.
at four years old I knew a lot,
I knew what was expected of me,
I knew I was supposed to marry, but it had to be a boy,
I knew I was supposed to have children, I didn't find out how that was supposed to come about until I was six though,
I knew I had to get a job,
I knew I was supposed to be pretty,
be skinny,
be nice,
be quiet,
be agreeable.
I knew quite a lot.
I feel now, as an eighteen year old, that I don't really know much of anything.
how does college work?
do I have classes everyday like the last 13 years of my life?
how do I fill a tire?
how do I get a credit card?
how do I make an appointment at a doctors office?
how do I ride a bike?
are they really my friends?
do they really truly like me?
when did birthday presents stop being a thing?
am I pretty enough?
am I skinny enough?
how could I know everything and nothing at such a young age?
how had I already decided this life was not worth living? that it was time to move on to the next one?
how can I know so much more now that I'm fourteen years older, yet have no answers to explain myself?
for two years I was your girlfriend, for the two before I considered you one of my best friends. I can't remember life before you were in it. what was my favorite color? what did I want to be when I graduated? what kind of music did I listen to? it's hard to see which parts of me, are me, not just remnants of you, imbedded in my soul forever.
kianamaiart
discoholicmusic
germansingergirl
jbbartram-illu
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
janainaart
