Hidden away pain, the kind of hurts from our early childhood, can still be healed. Sometimes letting it go is more painful than the hurt itself, because it turns into part of who we identify as. As we breathe the stuff out of our system it can become tangled into a nest stuck in our throat. It’s like a full grown bird is rustling around trying to get its way out of our mouth.
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The closer I get to people the more I want to get away
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i am trapped in a body where nothing is my own
my arms and thighs are covered in marks left by her and many others
grown men have seen every part of me and she’s felt everywhere
i scrub the cameras and rip her fingerprints off my skin but no matter how much soap, no matter how hot the water, i will always feel her touching me
i all i wanted was for a boy to like me, a nice boy my age. i wanted affection and i got a girl with flames in her mouth.
she built me a tower of pink building blocks, and kicked it down like a child.
i wanted love so i starved myself so someone would find me attractive, even if it was a 36 year old with an anorexia fetish.
my skin and bones and chubby 12 year old face was his dream. he said he wanted to fuck me so hard my bones would break.
i blocked him after that.
i flinch at hugs and cry after kisses
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a fools guide to not wanting to die anymore
by me, a fool who doesnt wanna die anymore
never make a suicide joke again. yes this includes “i wanna die” as a figure of speech. swear off of it. actually make an effort to change how you think about things.
find something to compliment someone for at least 4 times a day. notice the little things about the world that make you happy, and use that to make other people happy.
talk to people. initiate conversation as often as you possibly can. keep your mind busy and you wont have to worry anymore
picture the bad intrusive thoughts in youe head as an edgy 13 year old and tell them to go be emo somewhere else
if someone makes you feel bad most of the time, stop talking to them. making yourself hang out with people who drain you is self harm. stop it.
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Mary Oliver, from Long Life: Essays And Other Writings originally published in 2004
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— Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter to Arthur Davison Ficke featured in Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay.
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter featured in The Letters of Edna St. Vincent Millay
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i don’t like being perceived but i do love being adored
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Ghostface in pixels 🔪
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Not sure who needs to hear this but…
Laying down next to your significant other is NOT cuddling!
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