I see your face inside.

It smelled the same.

White walls and teal coloured seats that squeal when you sit on them. 

My palms were clammy, my hair soaking wet and dripping onto my legs.

She had nice eyes. Although, I couldn't look at her.

I felt weak, I feel weak.
I'm back here again.

I couldn't look at him either,

just briefly cried.

"But you don't have to be."

Telling on the teeth.

I am alive.
I am hiding, too ashamed to come back.
I'm so full of regret.
I'm so sorry.

Always danger, endless talking, life rebuilding, don't walk away.

When I tell you to leave me alone, I don't mean it.
I wish you could understand, I'll push you away,

but not because I want to, but because I know it's best for you.
As long as you're caring, as long as you're around, I'm hurting you.
That is the last thing I want to do.
It hurts so much, but if it means that you will be happy,
I'll do anything.

I don't have to sell my soul.

You put your clothes on and left.
My head hurts.

I'm crying.
J'ai trouvé la lame de rasoir.

Broken our mirrors

Do I show him?

Or do I simply persist with this ridiculous altercation occuring inside my head.
At what point will I grow up?
I'm going to let him see this, see it all.
I will only learn to trust by trying.

The one who creeps in corridors, and doesn't make a sound.

 

Did I mention I was discharged?

People to me are so surreal, they're enchanting.

They repulse me, and yet, there is that weakness within myself.

Perhaps I'm just bothered by ignorance.

They do not think before they speak.

If only they knew what they were doing,

my mind is bitter, not only increasing the hatred towards myself,

but flooding me with regret.

I wish only to melt into the void.

Tell the voices to stop.

Went over the sea, what did I find?

The morning after.
I think back, not just to the previous night, but everything I've ever done, and I hate it.
I hate everything I say, stupid, the ignorance.
I fucking hate myself.
I'm craving the blood, the split second of euphoria, 

how better to express such a putrid abhorrence?

Though, my drunken ability to spill my secrets has found me a friend.

She eats nothing, smokes everything, and is undeniably beautiful.

Oh, I'm imploding.

.