You drink until the bottle is emptier than you are and poison yourself with drugs until the chemicals reach your blood and taint it. You are worth so much more than the toxins that you inject yourself with but you’ve found comfort in them. God I want to save you but you don’t realize you even need saving, and every attempt I’ve made to try to tell you of your potential gets shot down with you sighing it off saying you don’t have a problem. You wonder why I seem to push you away, well darling maybe it’s because I cant make my home in you if you’re too busy making yourself at home in your self destruction. Maybe I can’t stand the thought of losing you and I’m scared to see the day that you dance a little too close with death and he doesn’t let you fucking go.
-scI want to be the cigarette resting so carelessly against your lips and the warmth of the nicotine invading your body. The comforting pack resting consistently in your pocket, kept safe and protected. I want to be your addiction and the habit that you can’t break, what your hands are always searching for and that craving you so desperately need to fill. But instead of being your poison, darling I want to be your cure.
-scI never understood why people screamed into pillows until I did it at 2 o'clock this morning at the top of my lungs. I could feel it was blood curdling and my throat hurt afterwards and I was sure when I lifted my head someone would open the door asking if I was okay.
But no one did.
No one heard me.
It was like I had just screamed out all of the fear, tension, and anger I had been holding onto but no one could bother to notice.
I guess I still don’t really understand why people scream into pillows, it leaves you feeling so much more empty.
-sc
If you are going to love me, if you choose to love me, in the midst of my depression and in knowing all of the anxieties I bear, then embrace it.
Do not brush off the questions of others and feed them lies of “oh she’s just not feeling well”, tell them about the panic attack I just had. When asked why I’m so quiet, do not tell them “oh she’s just shy”, explain to them about all of the reasons I deal with social anxiety. Do not cover up my scars, help me explain them because I lack the proper words. Help me grow because I am fragile. Be my voice when I can’t speak, shed all of the patience you can bear, guide me, but do not hide my sickness under a blanket. I have scars and wounds that decorate my bones, just out of reach for people to feel. I have glass in my throat that halts the conversations I wish I could have. I have a heavy dark cloak tied around my neck that can drag me into darkness even on my happiest days.
If you are going to love me, if you choose to love me, in the midst of my depression and in knowing all of the anxieties I bear, be willing to help me fight through it, teach me how to wear it like armor.
-sc
im dealing with my shit the way im dealing with it. are my methods unhealthy? yes. are they effective? no. am i going to change what im doing. no
(via damagedloser-blog)
depression after years of having it isn’t even sadness it’s just being exhausted and being allowed one (1) emotion a week and sometimes your brain is like “die” and you’re like “shut up brad”
(via patientlights)
I sat there and told him all of my stories and unraveled all of my views, he looked at me and said “you beautiful fucked up thing you”
-sn
They say if something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. But what if something very very wrong,
feels very very right?
We stood together silhouetted by moonlight but you have no idea what you’re holding onto. I am chopped full of insecurities and you could say I’m yours in the midst of this mess but I am scared that I will never mean as much to you as you mean to me. I seem to fall in love with moving targets, ones I could easily have no part in.
And you’re so dangerous.
Because you look at me with bright eyes covering a battered soul and maybe you’re just as damaged as me. But you’re something, really something because fuck you’re so special, and god I’m gross and you’re so beautiful I have no idea what you could see in me but every time you look at me you pour electricity into my veins and ignite my heart that’s been dusted over for so long.
And truth be told I am so beyond scared because I am falling in love with you. And my insecurities eat me alive and tell me that I am not worthy of you, but you mean so much to me and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this enthralled and happy with someone, I’m just so worried you’ll realize I’m not all that great and that you could find better. But I find peace when I am wrapped up in you and there’s no place on earth I’d rather be. So darling please don’t go, because I’m beginning to love you so.
-sn
Exit signs spoke of all the places I could go as I chain smoked cigarettes under a late night sky but little do they know I got on this road with no destination. I want to rid myself of everything I know and send this car crashing off the side of this highway to end the voices in my head that are screaming in tongues that I just can’t understand. No one understands, death is easy, it’s life that’s hard.
-sn
We were lying on her floor and I told her stories about how I wanted to die, how my skin never fell around my frame properly and how I think there is a poison spilling it’s way through my bloodstream, how my words felt like they were always straining my throat and no one ever really meant it if they asked if I was okay. She sighed and stroked my hair and I could feel her half hearted sympathy but I just let my eyes rest and felt her heartbeat under my chin as I curled up against her chest. She tried to love me she really did. But maybe I wasn’t meant to be loved, I’m not strung together like beautiful poetry but more like a bunch of uneven pieces of a puzzle that no one wanted to try to put together.
-sn
You would crush my heart in both of your hands and lick your fingers one by one for the dramatics. You never were easy on the nerves, and god damn do you love the attention
-sn
You’re dying to kiss me I can see it dancing on your mouth, but darling my lips are laced with thorns and I will leave scars across your lips. You already have battle wounds from the times you’ve tried to hold me, darling, what else do you expect from this. You think you can navigate the storm, that you aren’t afraid of a little rain, but little do you know that I’m a god damn hurricane.
-sn
I am stitched together with high hopes and good intentions
but I’m coming
u
n
d
o
n
e
-sn
The air in my lungs never rests easy because I bite my tongue when the words I want to sing bite at my conscious and I swallow the corpses of conversations I’ve rehearsed a thousand times in my head because they’re not good enough, they’re never good enough. My vocal chords hold shards of broken glass and I suffocate when the gesture gets turned to me to speak, how could anything I will ever say be worthy enough to enter the ears of the people I love most.
-sn