𝙅𝘼𝙔.

i've polished this anger and now it's a knife.

i am trying to make myself digestible. i am trying to make myself easy to love.

i never had a chance to be soft. i was always bloody knuckles and shards of glass. i wanted people to be afraid of hurting me.

'i  exist.'  in  thousands  of  agonies,  i  exist.

some  of  us  are  just  born  with  tragedy  in  our  blood.

me and the devil, walking side—by—side.

i pour alcohol into the gaping hole inside my chest. it does not heal. not today. maybe tomorrow.

i am full of hurt, full of anger, and i just need somewhere to put it. i am so sick of carrying it around, so i let myself give in. i let it take over my voice. i let it take over my entire body.

to  whom  do  i  owe  the  biggest  apology?  no  one's  been  crueller  than  i  am  to  me.

your  hands  are  scarred  from  murder,  and  yet  i  trust  them  completely.