How Alone They Are

i wanna run until my body withers away

until the ache in my soul goes away

until the pain in my somache is gone

until the muscel spasms stop

until my heart ceases to be

until i’m no longer me

they don’t tell you this, but sometimes all you can do is run. it’s not an act of shame yes it is a loss of control but it’s a loss of something greater the loss of believing that those around you will understand and accept you for who and where you are.

when you’ve done all you can do. to try and love them. to love them. to be there to be what they want to answer their “try me’s” when you say they won’t understand after staring blankly at them and their lies of ‘i understand’ followed by their own life story that has nothing to do with you and who you are and what you’re going through

that’s when you gotta run. it’s not a running away. it’s a getting to a physical space of what you know to spiritually be true. that you are alone and no one sees you. no one can help. and really, they don’t want to. don’t want you. want *you*

she’s not crazy

she’s just the only one who truly knows

yuno_gasai_render_by_ashleytheskitty-dbbomgk.png

how alone they are

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house.ghost

there are ghost in this house.ghost of unnamable horror. they drift about like nothing is wrong. one is dying one is not. they’re beautiful the public says they have money the colleagues say look how far they’ve come how far they stepped back how much one has lost one faster than the other stepping into a hole only pal-bearers should fill but not yet

“God I’m so jealous of how skinny she is!” “I know same! That’s like my dream body.”

the clock down the hall.

ticks.

makeYouHappy

If you could have seen my face. As your words registered clicking into the slots of comprehension in my mind; if you weren’t too busy looking in the mirror you would have seen. You would have known, as I knew then, that it is over. That the we, we had was killed with a knife as wounds of old you slashed back open. You knew my weaknesses, just where to cut, i showed you the way the scars run, and with a shard of our mirror you traced open old wounds to remind me of the truth. of my place in the world, of you. Not two.