i feel it so deeply in my bones 🗝️⋆｡𖦹

i don’t know what it is like to not have deep emotions. even when i feel nothing, i feel it completely.

i am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something which i only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones

i’m not here, this isn’t happening.

how can i ask anyone to love me when all i do is beg to be left alone?

i worry this is how i’m always gonna feel.

i cannot make you understand. i cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside of me. i cannot even explain it to myself

i want to breathe, i want to grow. i’d say i want it but i don’t know how. i work, i bleed, i beg, i pray.

i don’t care if it hurts. i want to have control. i want a perfect body. i want a perfect soul

you do it to yourself, you do, and that’s what really hurts.

it wears me out. and if i could be who uou wanted, if i could be who you wanted all the time

i’m not living, i’m just killing time.

i’ve given all i can, it’s not enough.

i am waiting, i have been waiting, i was born waiting.

mom, am i still uoung? can i dream for a few months more.

looks like the cat did a number on you.

i don’t know how to feel, but someday i might.

and i don’t get along with anyone. maybe i’m the problem.

ni kan skratta om ni vill. håna oss, vi rör oss, ni står still.

och jag är livrädd för att leva och dödsrädd för att dö.

någon hade sagt att jag var feg, lilla ego fy skäms. att jag alltid stod där bakom och höll med, sanningen känns.

i want you to notice when i’m not around. so fucking special, i wish i was special.

a job that slowly kills you, bruises that wont heal.

feeling off when i feel fine

you do it to yourself, you do, and that’s what really hurts.

think i forgot how to be happy.

and i don’t get along with anyone, maybe i’m the problem.

i wish we never learned to fly.

that’s what a year-long headache to you.

and you don’t wanna know how alone i’ve been.

you’d kill yourself for recognition, kill yourself to never ever stop.

standing in the yard, dressed like a kid. The house is white and the lawn is dead.

i made it all look painless, man, am i the greatest.

i get mean when i’m nervous like a bad dog.

wait a minute, let me finish. i know you don’t care, but can you listen?

and i know none of this will matter in the long run, but i know a sound is still a sound around no one.

”everytime i addressed something that bothered me, i became the problem.”

”even if i am not worthy of heaven, i hope i am not deserving of hell either. that’s all i want: to not be punished for not being good enough.”

”i am a museum of everthing i’ve loved.”

”love didn’t ruin me, hope did. the kind that begged, ’maybe this time’.”

”how can i ask anyone to love me, when all i do is beg to be left alone?”

”she could’ve been a poet, of, she could’ve been a fool.”

”pleasd, forgive me for my distance. the pain is evident in my existance.”