‌‌ ‌Quietude

‌ ‌I'm still waiting. But is it worth it?

‌ ‌I'm still waiting for the stories I create in my head to come true one day, even though I know they probably won't.

‌ ‌The place where I can finally disappear:

‌ ‌I don't want a hug that fixes me. I want one that holds me together while I fall apart, silently, without asking why.

‌ ‌When I hug you tight, hug me back just as fucking tight.

‌ ‌I don't want a therapist. I want a hug that lasts longer than my problems.

‌ ‌"How do you see your future?" Looking out a psych ward window, cackling like a maniac, sprinting down the hall, getting a fat needle shoved up my ass, and waking up a few days later.

‌ ‌"How do you see your future?" Looking out a psych ward window, cackling like a maniac, sprinting down the hall, getting a fat needle shoved up my ass, and waking up a few days later.

‌ ‌"How do you see your future?" Looking out a psych ward window, cackling like a maniac, sprinting down the hall, getting a fat needle shoved up my ass, and waking up a few days later.

‌ ‌‌It's so fucking fucked up how one small thing makes them end everything. Bro wtf. did all those moments mean nothing to you?