wish fulfillment (3)

oh, the bad days just seem to stretch on forever, don’t they? digging right into your bones, foaming at the mouth, they do not let go or give in. they fight harder, and longer than any sane person could possibly endure and finally break you, when you’re lying on your bed, watching TV.

rather than drinking water or doing your schoolwork or working on that story. rather than taking a shower, or talking to anybody. because i’m so deep down now, i don’t think anyone can save me but myself, so… i’ll sit there, drowning. in a big, grey hoodie, and the same pair of jeans i’ve been wearing for days.

i’ll close my eyes, and wait for the ocean of pixels to carry me away, to somewhere the grass grows green, and the birds sing all day, and help me stay sane through… all this.

and you’re there with me. everyone is. all my imaginary friends, and long-lost acquaintances, perfect lovers i’ve yet to even meet.

and when it gets bad, the walls cradle me close. i take a bath, i read a book, i get the fuck off my phone, and know that right here where i stand is a place called home.

i get changed into pyjamas. wash my face, and look at myself in the mirror. the girl before me is tired, and sad, and there are bags under her eyes. and she’s breaking out again. but if you look closely, you can see a little grain of hope buried deep down inside. and for the first time in two fucking years, she starts to think that maybe, when all of this is over, she’s gonna be all right.

blood moon

the suburban lull slithers down my thighs. shattered dreams, shitty motels. broken teeth and downcast eyes. i want you to know you’re worth more what you give to other people, all right?

you don’t have to play dumb. don’t have to blink innocently. and no matter how they word it, you don’t owe it to anybody.

not the blood moon, clawing its way down the sky. not the parched book pages. not the twinkle in his eye. you are the aurora borealis; a thousand watercolour shades, bleeding down the sky….

lead blankets. a fuzzy guitar riff. and oh, sweetheart tell me why. tell me how you suck in your stomach, how you keep your head down. how you give up so completely…

welcome to the land of the reckless and the brave. where dreams go to die.

i am normal

i am normal. for one goddamn moment. not the pile of skin and bones i have come to call home. i am just a teenager. please tell me that i am just a teenager because i don’t want to be alone. 

i am normal. and you can’t tell me otherwise, because anger is a wall of fire i will build around myself to keep everything else out because i’ve been through enough. 

so i am normal. so i am fine. so i am pretty, and perfect, and all right, and look at me with my blog, and my good grades, and my lovely social life.

look at me. look at me straight in the fucking eye and tell me any of this mattered. tell me it was worth it.

i mean, go ahead. try.

nothing you say is gonna make me believe it.


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