My Fucked Up Life

(Source: d-e-f-1-n-i-t-y, via over-dressed-and-underage)

Have you ever thought?

How everything would be so much easier if…

You cut vertical instead of horizontal.

Took enough pills to never wake up again.

Put one bullet to the head.

Tied something around you neck and then hung in the air.

You were dead.

This is so true about cutting.

This is so true about cutting.

Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. I keep saying it, but my stomach is saying otherwise. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.

Cut me.

I stare at the blade repeating in my head no no no.

I’m nearly on the verge of tears.

The blade stares back at me screaming let me make you bleed.

I continue saying no.

As I realize the blade has taken control.

The one thing I thought I could control has now turned on me.

So here I go cutting my skin open again.

Caring.

I feel like nobody fucking cares about me anymore.

I feel like nobody wants to be around me.

I feel like everyone stopped caring what I had to say a long time ago.

Fuck.

I just want someone to care for me.

I feel so fucking lost and broken in my sad and pathetic life.

I just need someone there for me and it seems like nobody is.

I wish I didn’t feel the way I do.

I wish that I could be happy.

I wish that I didn’t think about suicide.

I wish that I didn’t think I was fat.

I wish I didn’t cut myself.

But it is too late now and I am spiraling out of control.