I don’t mean to stray from
my goals and end up in a twisted
forest full of vices versus virtues,
I don’t mean to screw up
everything to the point that
I can’t sleep at night.
I don’t want this hole in my heart
anymore, I don’t want to wake
up and feel like I don’t have
I go to sleep empty and I wake up
empty, I feel hated, and alone.
this is the longest I’ve been without
spilling blood down my arms
since 7th grade, and I’ve never felt
worse. Somehow every decision
I make is the wrong one, and I can’t
right anymore wrongs without
going insane. I
don’t know what to do anymore,
and my fight or flight
instinct is pleasing for me to run,
telling me to get the fuck out of
this life while I can,
telling me to hurry before I hurt
more people who are in the path of
my self destructive storm.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.