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هرکس بدون حضور دیگر / t.me/loyrex

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Postlar arxiv

430

5:04 ⭐️

430

autumnal rays turned your eyes to stone, did it give you pleasure to steal my soul?

430

september sun rotted Flatbush porch. i would have run then, had i known the cost?

430

yet in the dark still he screams your name, nights living death with which rhymes insane.

430

september sun blowing golden hair. now, keep in mind son, she was never there. october's rust🌟🌟 bisecting black storm🌟🌟clouds, only the deaf 🌟🌟 hear my silent shouts🌟🌟

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i wasn't just typing some random hateful text, i really did it and i hope you stay alive for hundreds of years of pain and sorrow and suffocation☣️.

430

i don't cry about it, I light a candle about it instead and pray to any kind of myth or god to make your life as miserable as mine.

430

maybe death is the goal i've always been searching for. all i do is for death and all the things I do or see, listen, write, and think are death.

430

i'm sorry, but i see everything in the shadows of death and i can't do anything about it.

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sitting on my bed, my playlist is blasting and my novel is wide open in front of me. my cigarette is burning slowly and the wind is dancing with my hair. everything's to die peacefully.

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i need to die before my 30s.

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it’s not that bad anyway. i’m falling into the walls, the razorblade just calls😱.

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i’m too scared to die, so my wrist is my canvas.

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i bleed from everywhere, my life feels so unfair. all the eyes that look and stare, my parents unconditional glare🧍.

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i lied to everyone. 🌟🌟 i’m not clean. 🌟🌟🌟 i’m such a fiend. 🌟🌟 i cut until i pass out.🌟🌟 i cut until black out. i hate that i’m alone again. i need a cutting friend.