Wherever I go they’re always fucking there, like a suppurating wound or a cancer
and those who can talk without falling over their words are always received more warmly than the stumble-tongued
no matter the blood on the former’s hands
(I wasn’t thinking of you at all)
I can’t be human, I can’t even pretend to be human or real or worth anything anymore
I can’t do people
not even when I love them — in fact, when i love them it just makes everything a hundred thousand times worse
I’m silenced, but beyond that;
I’m just a broken fuckup, and I know it.
(oh she was right all along.
sing with me, this is)
I don’t think I want to die but maybe it would be better for everyone if I just…disappeared quietly. nothing of value would be lost, really. and I Don’t want hugs or platitudes or attention or anything; I’m not saying this for any of that, I’m saying this because it’s true. if I have no worth I have no one to blame but myself, like with every other thing. I’m a mess, but I’m not quite as fucking stupid as they all said (Say) I am.
nobody notices their silver missing while they’re polishing their gold. why woudl they?
With the sticks and stones I’m made ofI swear I tried the best I couldI still wanna be a winnerI want to be good
1 Comment
Living for other people is a nice idea but ultimately, I think your life is your own. That means that if you decide it has worth, then it does, even without factoring in anyone else or their expectations and feelings. Just…my two cents.