years on this bitter, sour soil has taught me x amount of useless information.
1). Some hugs feel like thorns.
2). Most breaths are filled with poison.
It’s a pretty shitty thing to think about the way you want to die, and the need to die and the awful way you joke about it to yr friends, making it seem like a fuhkd up joke but in reality you’re asking for help. They know you’re sick. You know you’re sick. Your therapist knows your sick. Also, do your parents. But no matter how much you fight it seems static and thick. It stays. Unmoving. Instead of getting […]