Today is very much a play-iron-and-wine-on-the-guitar-and-cry-about-the-beaches-I’ll-never-return-to kind of day

Everything is a mess right now and I can’t process anything. I just have the urge to hit my head against a wall so many times that my brain might start making sense of things again and take control.

silent love is the most painful kind

I’ll never be him to her and I’ll hate myself eternally for it.

God fuck, that hair and those eyes.

I really really should not write when I’m intoxicated.

I’ve been wondering if my blood clots slower than normal. And how much I can make myself bleed before everything else stops.A little bit more each night.  Fuck, there are some things that even a private blog does not need to hear about.

I’m too broken for her. I really should just stick with people as damaged as me. I don’t know how I’m able to maintain as false of an appearance as I do.

This post might be one of those I delete in the morning. Or keep to remind myself of why I do the things I do to myself.