#1134
No glory is in your deed, For your goal is of infinite need, Of evils and greed. It is black that you’ll bleed.

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@livingtheordinary
#1134
No glory is in your deed, For your goal is of infinite need, Of evils and greed. It is black that you’ll bleed.
Pain in my heart
When will it end?
You don't even know
You wouldn't understand
I love you
But I can't wait to move on
Thank you for the memories
Thank you for the lessons
Thank you for being you
Thank you for existing
Maybe in the next life?
It’s dark. It’s cold. It’s dark, but warm. Everything is black. There is nothing. The darkness swirls around me; gentle, peaceful. My body is light. My body is heavy. Suspended in the waters of nothingness. I do not breathe. I do not speak. My eyes are open, but I do not see. My lips are parted, and from them comes a sea of darkness, of nothingness. It travels from my soul and out through my throat, straining my jaw and bending my neck. And the darkness speaks to me. It whispers. Gently. And slowly the darkness rocks me to sleep. My eyes open and I can see.
me: *is laughing, feeling happy and having a good time*
my mental illness: you have been faking me all this time for attention
me: *immediately shuts down for a week and talks to no one*
literally me abou my ed every time i eat like a normal person
I always do this, I invalidate my feelings. What if I’m just faking everything.
i want to o qakt tp ibwakt yo ibwaktbto i wakt to i wakt to i want tp i really want to
sometimes an overdose is the most appealing thing in the world
My brain 24/7
Do you ever hate yourself just for being you?
For being so inadequately you
06.07.19
“there were good parts of us. of you. i will always be the first to admit that. and sometimes, i find myself picking through our memories like old antiques you find in your grandparents’ basement. sometimes, i blow off the dust on the day we met, or the first time we kissed. i wipe the dirt from the moment i realized that i was in love with you, and the first time i said it out loud. i flip through our best times like old photo albums, listen to your laughter like it’s a dusty vinyl record. but i always end up sitting in front of the chipped china plates in the corner. the broken picture frames lining the shelves; our first fight, the first promise broken, and then lie, after lie, after lie. crack, after crack, after crack. i come back to the broken parts of us because i am not ready to acknowledge the good parts by themselves. i can’t trust myself to not stare at the shiny pieces for too long, to not forget about the chips and cracks on the other side of the room. one day, i won’t need to hold all our shattered pieces in my hand to know that they’re there, that they aren’t going away. one day, i will be able to put the record of your laugh on play without being afraid of forgetting how that laugh also broke my heart. one day, i will be able to sit there, and just listen.”
— when i am finished healing / things you find in your grandparents’ basement -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
If I could send this to YOU I would… maybe you’d understand
when I reblog this and then hours later a blast from the past requests to follow me on insta, thanks B, didn’t need that but ok
For her, the stars.