- i was lost in reveries of death [...] edgar allan poe.
- i wanted to do something with my life, but instead i went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. i couldn't even tell you about anything that i saw. i didn't talk to anybody. the cicadas kept dying outside, and as i dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence. yiwei chai, the jacaranda years.
- i said: i could be a wolf for you. i could put my teeth on your throat. i could growl. i could eat you whole. i could wait for you in the dark. i could howl against your hair. catherynne m. valente.
- it’s like i'm sending out messages in bottles, but very picky and stubborn and selfish in that i only want the right person to receive it. i want to connect, but i also want to be left alone. mitski.
- i am nothing. i'm like someone who's been thrown into the ocean at night, floating all alone. i reach out, but no one is there. i call out, but no one answers. i have no connection to anything.
- how can i see anything but this: how trauma lives in the sea of my body, awash in the waters of forgetting." natasha trethewey.
- i'm more teeth than tongue, i will poison your veins and scrape you goddamn raw. haiku x.
- i go to bed. i am consumed by overwhelming loneliness. i stare at the ceiling. i long for something i can’t name. i question if i’m real. i see a funny little meme on my phone and laugh hysterically for several minutes. i get too invested in an unrealistic fantasy. i pass out around three.
- you hate yourself so loudly. you hate yourself at the top of your lungs. your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. “sorry i’m just rambling.” “don’t worry about it.” “just ignore me.” “sorry if i’m annoying you.” “sorry i don’t make sense.” “sorry about that.” sorry, sorry, sorry. you act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. as if the punching bag is you. if you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. you clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you’d never have to experience people’s loathing for you. and it meant you never heard their love. you drowned it out. you screamed your hatred over it. and you never got to hear it. maybecowboycore
jun 30 2018 ∞
jan 14 2024 +