You wouldnt like me.

I swear i'm getting weak and thin, like a spider. I try to calm myself, try not to fall into a fortress that's not so conforting.

I feel like, I wouldn't like me, If I met me. I feel like, you wouldnt like me, if you met me. Don't you worry, there's still time. Don't you worry, there's still time. There's nothing to live for when i'm sleeping alone. And I wash the windows outside in hopes that the glare will bring you around.


I've never called myself a positive person and if i have i never really meant it. I feel like i'm losing who I am if i become an optimistic, fake piece of shit. I guess i'm half optimistic now, without being fake. Never insecure, never weak, never begging, never legitimately hating myself. Until now. I need to be mutilated. My brain is fucking fried.


I know I dont deserve what I have. But I need it.
I'm batshit crazy and I need to die pretty much, yeah.


Anyways, dont die in the floods k.




till next time,