your friends can fuck off.
you can fuck off.
relationships can fuck off.
A preparation like communion or confession
Ritual carved into the enamel of teeth
Brush them
Shine the wig
Squeeze the last drop
Out of the gloss
Or into the girdle
.
Breathe
.
After this, breaths are shorter
A vice calibrating my rib cage
Reminding me of the myriad of ways I shrink myself
Knelt over the tub scrubbing the sole of a dirty shoe
The bulimia of a woman to lazy and vain to vomit
All in efforts to spit shine a photograph
Some days I regret having ever taken
.
There is this
A broken red light in my throat
And the next word is still waiting for the light change
For the glue to dry on this cheap vase
I cracked trying to sell to you
.
Mute is not always silent
And breaking into splinters
makes it easier to give yourself away
I am a communion of glass
I do this not in remembrance of me
I do this as forgetting rounds the edges
Makes me less likely to bleed as the shards go down
After all
Wouldn’t want to ruin this pretty dress
It is the only thing
Holding me together
sometimes i don’t like knowing when you think someone is pretty. sometimes it doesn’t bother me, but there are specific people that i wish you didn’t. i feel inferior though. inferior and fat. by no means do i think fat=ugly.. but when every girl that you tell me is attractive is a size 2, 4, or 6 i just never want to eat a meal again. algdkaj
(Source: oursuicidenotes)
i don’t have anyone left in this town..
(Source: suckingoutmybrains)
