she is the rain
all i ever do is think about how i feel, and all i ever feel is terrible
i lose everything
i am told that if you resist the natural urge to come to the surface for air, drowning is the least painful method of death that there is
in the meantime, i could withdraw to my room, could hide and sleep as if i were dead
i don’t know if i’m running because i’m scared or if i’m scared because i’m running
be careful of your heart
by then, i was a perfect weirdo by any standard
ice cubes and icebergs and ice floes and ice statues, where a girl use to be
i wanted so very badly to write a book that felt as bad as it feels to feel this bad
Depression is a very narcissistic thing, it’s a self-involvement that is so deep and intense that it means the sufferer cannot get out of her own head long enough to see what real good, what genuine loveliness, there is in the world around her
a child who has gone blank
high on tequila and seeing visions of vineyards in my dreams
