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Salty fucking tears.
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Actually, I haven’t been doing very well lately.
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This mood when I feel my dried tears on my cheeks and I neither want to live nor die.
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Every time everything gets better, it gets worse.
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That moment when you lie in bed and realize that you have no one to talk to.
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My heart is pounding and my thoughts are circling. Life gives me anxiety.
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Sometimes silence is worse.
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I thought I was doing better.
But then there was that one comment.
By a stranger.
And now I’m reliving all the traumatic feelings. The rape. The kidnapping. Everything.
Drowning. Just drowning by myself.
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So scared of dying.
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All I wanted was you to be mine. Now you’re mine and all I feel is anxiety.
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Just kill me right now.
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It’s all messy: the hair, the bed, the words, the heart. Life.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Feeling so broken.
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Please stop breaking my heart over and over again.
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