i would rather bite off my own fingers, rip all my tendons, or claw out my insides than stay here in the prison you’ve forced me to.
normals childhoods don’t exist. parents break up. dogs die. houses burn. friends betray. money runs out.
i am always short on words when i feel immensely.
no matter how high i jump, how fast i run, how many cities i pass through, how many dollars i spend; i will always end up staring right back at you.
the clouds are as angry as i am.
i rip open my stitches each time you stumble back into my life. even though i know i will cry tonight as i stitch them up after you leave.
i wrote all day trying to string together a sentence but i simply cannot. there are no words, feelings or colors to describe the pain you cause me.
if you hurt me, i’ll walk away as easy as i walked in.
my worst nightmare is being stuck in this terribly boring town doing something mediocre.