trigger warning: blood (used as a metaphor)
this isn’t romantic. how i close my eyes but no matter how hard i try i just. can’t. stop. thinking about it. this isn’t romantic. how my head is a washing machine that won’t stop spinning, and spinning, and spinning, but i’ll never let go. and i just want to breathe for a moment. but i’m picking myself apart. and i don’t know what’s true and what’s false anymore. and this isn’t cute. this isn’t trendy. this is a crack in my skull. this is the parts of me that refuse to let go. this is the spiderweb fragments spreading wider, and wider, and wider. and my stomach turning to stone. and maybe i’m going to fall. and maybe i’m not good enough. and maybe i’m a shitty person. and maybe i’m going to die alone. and the leaves fall, fall, fall. and my heart will fall. fall. fall. and my thoughts will spin into overload. and the warning lights flicker in and out of this world. and don’t you fucking get it? this doesn’t make me any stronger. this isn’t a superpower. this isn’t who i am, even though half the time i believe it. this is an illness. and why is it so hard for me to understand that?
just a quick piece i threw together yesterday. because the last couple days have been hard for me. just in case you need to talk to anyone, find a crisis line in your area here.
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