It’s too late. You can not fix what you broke by trying to give me what I needed as a child. I am no longer a child. It’s too late

Kiana Khansmith

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@emotionsturnedoff
It’s too late. You can not fix what you broke by trying to give me what I needed as a child. I am no longer a child. It’s too late
Familiar feels safe, even when it’s killing you
The final ingredient
Love… poisoned by betrayal
Removes the last flickers of light
Leaving you lost, in total darkness
To become something you were never meant to be
Why do I become someone else when they see my wrists.
Why does less flesh make me less human
I’m waiting for you. But you don’t even want me.
I’m only yours when it’s dark. But it’s enough.
I hate myself. As I sit here and wait. As I give up everything for you.
-one sided love
On BPD and FP:
You must be still. You must be silent.
Any sudden movements will send her running.
In a blink, in a glance, she’s gone, never to be seen again.
So you must be still. You must be silent.
You must feel alone. To never be alone.
You. Must.
My heart used to break. But there are no more pieces left to take.
My soul is now being ripped to shreds one person at a time.
The heart is the first defense to the soul, but when the soul starts to die, I am not sure what happens next.
I am so scared to find out
It’s only a matter is time now
Alone is how I grew up and alone is how I’ll go
She was a child. She was a child. She was a child. But she never got to be
She made me everything she ever wanted. She made me what she never had. But She didn’t consider what I wanted
Some of us get left behind. Some of us collect pain, not memories
The worst kind of obsession is with a person.
Text me back text me back text me back.
What. Do. You. Want.
“match my freak” how about you match my poetic misery instead
Bet u can't
Trying to explain my pain just makes me want to die
My mother didn't want to hurt me, but she was broken.
Her brokenness cut into me and made me bleed.
She didn't know how to love, or at least how to love me. It didn't even matter that she hurt me; I just wanted her to be sorry.
She said that she loved me, but it often felt like hate.
I suffered, and I did my best to love her.
As a woman, I have so much empathy for my mother, but as a daughter, I have so much anger.
Weird limbo when I return home for college breaks because I’ve healed my relationship with my fam but not from all parts of my past. So I crave being home, but at the same time am very triggered back in my old town.