it’s four am (quiet and dark but doesn’t that go without saying?)
i am high and making shadows with my hands,
watching Chase Elliot watch them
and follow, jumping at the wall.
he is cute. this is fun. 

wah wah wah wah wah wah 4 wah wah wah

i need some suggestions
on how to null my aggression,
crumple and toss
or just a face i can rip
in half. my head is now
a stagnant ditch and nothing
grows but flies flies
flies, a reminder of the 
time spent still 
waiting instead of splashing
around where now i’d
just like to drown
everyone.

It took me years to realise that there was nothing magical underneath my skin, and by that time I’d already stopped caring. I’d stopped searching for beauty in the ugly things, but the more I hated myself, the more they kept staring.
The dawn light caught my arms like dewy spiderwebs of silver threads, and the only conversations I could carry on were with the enemies in my head. And when they fell quiet, I started to miss the violence. Still, every now and then they raise their voices and break the silence.

giraffevader - You don’t just “grow out of it” (via giraffevader)