She hopes I’m cursed forever to sleep on a twin sized mattress
In somebody’s attic or basement my whole life
Never graduating up in size to add another
And my nightmares will have nightmares every night
I’ve probably listened to this 400 times today
You Will Never Go To Space -The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die
Is there a way to get into it or should I try to get over it?
i just want so much to be beautiful.
song writers aspire to have tattoos of their lyrics on peoples’ bodies, i aspire to tattoo knowledge onto not the superficial, the mind and internal inklings.
self-pity is ugly, pity is just pathetic.
i’m only seventeen and i feel like i will perpetually be sad
don’t talk to me don’t even fucking look at me the long press of my forehead fogging up coldly against the window with the snow outside and clouds dashed through the darkness of the night. i’m pulsing, i’m a rope with tension, i’m tight in the muscles. i’m shaking, my fingers tremble when i hold them up and i don’t know how to make them stop. make it subside, no wait please don’t i like this. people shout too much and i’m a quiet person. my voice wavers even when i talk to myself, don’t fucking talk to me. please. leave me alone.
crying crying crying.
my lungs yearn to breathe some other air than this smog of sadness.