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what is the point of death if it is as soft as this

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loneliness brings upon me

the fate of flowers facing the sun

as people cast their shadow on my face

i cry to open up

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there is a kind of beauty in becoming a monster

letting yourself be enveloped by the dark

weave the silver of nightmares into your eyes

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i'm sorry

the possibility that someone might like me

feels like pieces of Glass

gently laid out on my palms.

i don't feel like clutching them

Tonight.

[checkmeowtpurrfect]

on a day so long ago             my mother told me to only hold close        what i can make of use and i am petrified             for is this love       or just the words of my mother at the back of my mind

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my love is like a wildflower it grows with no conscious touch

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one day i’m gonna want to stay alive even when i’m sober 

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is this who i really am or am i just afraid to be anything else

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i am half-way convinced i could never be loved but you see, i know it as one of my faults one of the reasons why 

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i never learnt how to be loved there was a time when i could have been bad at it it doesn’t scare me, not being loved it’s like a spider that has been living in the corner of my room my whole life i wish you wouldn’t look at me like that like it could have been love i never learnt how to love someone back

[checkmeowtpurrfect]

when i was a child,             i would press on the wounds on my body       until the pain went numb.  now that i am older,              i look my demons in the eyes and watch                       as they swallow me whole. i have not changed at all

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i am a daughter

like daughters do, i have inherited most from my father. the anger seeping from my bones outwards, always smouldering. the hard hands, shattering my own bones without meaning to. the head held high, despite the weight on my shoulders feeling like the world.   the quiet grief though, that i have taken from my mother. like her, i wait until everybody is asleep or too busy to notice my bloody tears. i’ve held them so long inside they’re inprinted into my soul. it bleeds out along with them.  there is one difference between us, though. i know. when everybody is asleep or too busy to notice, i know.  like daughters do. 

[checkmeowtpurrfect]

fun fact

a lot of the time when they're trying to restart your heart they will break your ribs because the very high possibility of them piercing your lungs is insignificant to keeping your heart beating i find it strangely poetic

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we spent hours talking about soulmates i never told anyone that i thought maybe, you might be mine

[checkmeowtpurrfect]

will you love me even on the days there’s not enough of me left to love anything back?

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everyone i know is just                       a new way to hurt              so i      leave the door open i’m sorry it gets cold

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and i tell myself, every night                    before going to bed: ‘‘i’m not going to be loved. there is nothing left of me to love.            there never was.’‘ like a mantra, until it’s so far ingrained               in my bones                         i know nothing else. so i don’t forget.               i’m not going to be loved