i start crying and can’t stop. every time i look at my bedsheets i notice a blood stain that wasn’t there before. my fingers ache from biting too hard, my head aches from gripping too hard. what’s the use? what’s the use? what’s the use?

i think my life’s all wrong and i think it’s because of you. that’s not true. i’m sorry i ever said it. but it’s easier to keep thinking that way, blind and unwilling. to pretend i can’t fix what’s wrong with me by blaming all my problems on an unfixable thing. secret’s out. you were never the problem. i use you as an excuse to hate the world for making me live in it.

you are the vessel for my hatred. how twisted is that? taking love and calling it hate. taking friend and calling him enemy. i don’t know the first thing about my own feelings. you shouldn’t have trusted a single word i said. i should’ve given you an out way before i did. 17 months too late. the pain is worse than the joy. for that alone, i wish you never met me.

me. you. me. you. it oscillates every day. who to blame? it isn’t a question, it’s a decision i invented. one answer wrong, one right. stick to the right one. blame yourself. nobody gets hurt that way. i’m worthless already. what’s a little extra hatred gonna do?

i wish you’d read any of this. i hope you never do. i’m hurting so bad. how do i escape my own hands if they’re attached to my body? i should’ve never done it. i should’ve never come here. every choice i make is wrong. the smoke gets thicker with every step.