Thinking About How When I Woke Up From A Nightmare In A Friend’s Bed I Wasn’t Scared. Usually I Wake

I’ll drink myself to death inside this prison cell

I have a confession:

I hate being in my room all the time. I want to be anywhere else but here. Selfishly, I wish people would invite me over more often. I want to sleep in any other bed but my own. But it doesn’t make too much of a difference, my bad dreams follow me no matter where I go, I suppose it just feels less lonely.

Wish I could be committed to literally anything

If the function got dab pen, Björk, and personality quizzes I’ll be there

My friends gift to me a glimmer of hope occasionally; and when they do, all I can think about is how badly I want to see and know the adult versions of them. I think about how nice it would be to have an extra room, or maybe a pullout couch, at the disposal of any friend looking for a warm bed and an ear to listen. I think about them coming to my house just to ask for a cigarette, and to talk about their troubles while we sit on the porch. I think about how I’ll attend (and cry at) their weddings, and I think about how I’ll be with them through messy breakups, and all the inbetweens. I think about how I’ll have their favorite snacks in my cupboard, and how I’ll make sure there’s always an extra toothbrush for them. I think about how I’ll have toys stored away for their potential kids when they visit, and I think about how I’ll get to watch all of us grow up.

I often times think the only thing stopping me from ending it is fear, but I think a little harder about the people I love, and suddenly it feels like my heart is trying to claw through my chest, and grasp onto any hope for the future.

I want to be there to love those around me until I can no longer leave my bed, and my last breaths are be spent cherishing their names.

When the video is real as hell but I’m scared of other people seeing my reposts so I stare at my screen while the repost button calls to me like the green goblin mask

“All this talk of getting old, it’s getting me down, my love”

UNWRITE THAT NOW!!

divinity - a poem

seek familiarity in the warmth of ichor on your gelid, gelid skin

did they tell you that this world was meant for you?

or did they carve crosses in your chest, caving in your sternum?

did they tell you tales of falsified salvation, of cruel righteousness?

of eternal damnation at the blade of atheistic refutation?

seek answers in the warmth of ichor on your gelid, gelid skin

discover the world that lives to be your oyster

find redemption in the splendor of your existence

survive to lead the legacy of passion and absolution

learn to believe in the warmth of ichor on your gelid, gelid skin

seek divinity in mortality, find divinity beneath your hardened shell

seek divinity where it seeks you

I’m boreddddjdjdjddhsjsimnejgjaiwmw

hate to break it to you but if it keeps you up at night it still hurts no matter how hard you try to swallow it