it's better now. i can feel my smile now and it makes me forget you sometimes. i pretend to care so little that i forget you. sometimes i can act like you're normal, as if your reality is not twisted and strangled and choked by darkness, as if you hadn't made me piece myself together because you shattered my entire existence and blamed me for the glass in your skin when i exploded.

IT'S BETTER SOMETIMES.

IT'S BETTER SOMETIMES BUT NOT ENOUGH.

because you made me build walls that reached the sky and i hurt everyone who tries to break them. they bruise their bodies against the corpses of your withering words. i break everything and everyone and in the end im left standing on the other side of the wall, in the darkness, trying to fix everything, TRYING TO FIX THE BROKEN BODIES AND HEARTS BUT THE PUZZLE PIECES NEVER ALIGN. it's like my soul has a concussion and my world is just twisted here, the lights are too bright and gravity draws things away from each other. there's a ringing in my ears, cracks in my spine and cotton stuffed in my head and some days i can't...

SOME DAYS I CAN'T FEEL MY FUCKING BODY SOME DAYS I CAN'T FEEL AT ALL I'VE BECOME SO NUMB I HURT BECAUSE,

because sometimes your mere existence would fill me with so much trauma and pain that i'd lie in bed at night, too tired to fall asleep and i'd cry and cry and cry and cry but it's never enough pain for me to pass out. and that's all i want, to pass out. i want to cry so hard that i turn blind and i'd pray a million times that i could just die. i just want to run and run and run and run until i scrape my skull against my adrenaline until all my muscles rip apart and then i would collapse and cry until i pass out, because