Some days I feel like drowning in far-off seas of dust and dead leaves as brown as the uncovered earth after a decade-long winter.
– I think it’d be easier. I also think I talk a lot of bullshit for someone who fears eye contact more than dying –
These days are full of red eyes. Skin so grey not a person alive would dare sink their teeth into it. Words that will never form pretty sentences on paper, and perhaps I hate myself a little more than I did yesterday.
I’m just so tired. Everything I do feels like pulling teeth and I just want to take a breath without losing tiny fragments of myself.
I am constantly torn between wishing myself away and wishing that I loved to live as much as I want you to.
…
[a/n: this is terrible and I’m sad and I’ll probably delete this later, but. I just wanted to post something before I go to work so I’ll talk to you soon ily.]
