千哩 @silkenfuneral - Tumblr Blog

im not anyone's first choice. im not anyone's favorite. people may tell me i mean a lot to them and that im special to them but i know there's someone they'll always choose over me

f1nalrequiem

nobody talks about how easy it is to fuck up a relationship because of ur bpd

excatholicthroaway

i always love more than i am loved

“a testament against absolution” some days i think i learned how to love inside a cathedral that was already rotting. vaulted ceilings blackened by centuries of breath. incense clinging to everything like apology. every feeling i had was taught to kneel before it was allowed to exist, before it was allowed to be mine. he was my first altar. hallowed by love & consecration, devotion & covenant, fidelity & endurance, adoration & surrender, vigil & witness. i laid myself down wrong. heart open, wrists bare, waiting to be made holy through endurance. sometimes i believed suffering was devotion. i believed staying meant salvation. when he left, he didn’t slam a door. he sealed the room & told everyone i was screaming inside it. my name moves now like a bad prayer passed between mouths. spoken softly, carefully, the way people talk about unstable women & dying animals. borderline. a word like iron on the tongue. a word that explains my grief without touching it. a word that makes my love look theatrical instead of wounded. he never tells them how i learned his silences by smell. cold metal. extinguished candles. the mildew of waiting. how i folded my needs smaller & smaller, rationed them like contraband, afraid my wanting would bruise his ego. we were both toxic, emotionally corrosive & steeped in decay. but he gets absolution & i get pathology. he gets to be overwhelmed. i get to be unhinged. in his memory he is patient, tired, a saint with worn hands. in mine he is a man who learned how to vanish & call it peace. he edits the past carefully, like scripture rewritten by someone afraid of hell. his anger disappears. his withdrawals become wisdom. the nights he watched me fracture are reframed as restraint. i loved him the way sick girls love god. knees bruised purple. faith tasting like rust. certain that if i suffered beautifully enough i would be spared abandonment. every time i cried it became evidence. every time he went cold it became virtue. now i live as a warning etched into his story. the madwoman in the nave, hair loose, eyes too bright, sealed behind diagnosis so he never has to say i hurt her too. so he never has to say i broke her too. but i remember everything. i remember the truth the way cathedrals remember names. in stone. in echo. in dust that refuses to settle. if i am broken it is because i was loved like a penance & not a person. if i am monstrous it is because i refused to be buried quietly. so let them light candles. let them lower their voices. let them say i was too much. i know what really happened. he survived by turning me into a ghost, & i am still here, breathing inside the ruins, haunting the structure he built on my silence.

condemnedbody

If we never talk again and I die would you miss me if you found out?

cantdi33

Genuinely wanna kms

pukeyourguts

（*＾3＾）/～☆

wklllo

“eternal ruin” i honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore, or why i want to change so badly, but just can’t. why do i weep when i hurt others, & expect that to purify my actions? i feel so hopeless, & i sob at the fact that i push everyone away from me, as if i didn’t do this to myself. i hate myself for knowing better, but never doing better. i hate that i see the patterns as they happen, yet i still let them consume me. it’s like watching myself destroy everything i care about, while screaming at a version of me that doesn’t listen. i crave love & closeness more than anything, yet the moment i have it, my fear twists it into something fragile & unbearable. i test people, push them, beg them to prove they won’t leave, only to end up creating the very abandonment i dread. i don’t know if i’m capable of being the person i want to be, or if i’m destined to keep repeating this cycle until there’s no one left to love me. i feel like i’m both the wound & the one reopening it, over & over again. i feel like my heart is a battlefield, torn between wanting to be held & wanting to run. i tear down every bridge the second it feels safe, then stand in the wreckage wondering why i’m alone. i tell myself i’ll do better tomorrow, but tomorrow comes, & i’m the same storm, the same breaking wave. it’s exhausting, living in a body that betrays me, in a mind that convinces me love is both salvation & threat. i don’t know how much longer people will stay, or how much longer i can keep asking them to. i cry for forgiveness, not because i deserve it, but because i don’t know how else to keep people from slipping away. maybe one day i’ll learn to stop bleeding on the ones who try to heal me, but right now it feels like all i know how to do is ruin what i love.

tomoike2525

tokyo street snap

haven't been active on anything bc i've been fighting for my life recently x_x my life is declining sooo fucking bad, just when i thought things were starting to get better... i need a bullet to the dome