everybody shits on my head, I'm not often reachable and have a lot of stuff to do. But at least I do have the decency to call or send a message about the fact that I have to cancel. I feel that nothing I do is appreciated. This is honestly the last time that I put effort into people like you. I feel that every bone in my body outweighs yesterday. And I'm going to end up in a landfill with toxic trash. I am my own downfall, I am empty. The pages in my book will not get filled. Sometimes I wish that I was an addict to everything that destroys a man, continue to swallow the overflow. I want to roll my tongue deep in my throat, so every stupid word that I would spit rinses down the drain. I want to drown myself in baby foam, and poke my eyes out with my pink fingernails. I am so small and so heavy I can barely keep my head right. There is no solution to offer, nothing can help me but myself, but where can I find myself? I don't want to be saved, I want everybody to stay away from me. I break everything I touch with my sick and toxic hands. Let me sleep, let me cry, make me bleed, just leave me and don't look over your shoulder.
I will repress myself, I can no longer run away from my scars. I want to give up and lay in the massacre that I've created.
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