That feeling when you're not suicidal but would just rather not do life anymore and wouldn't mind if you suddenly stopped existing because you know life will never get easier, only harder as time passes. And I'm having trouble sitting with the thought of a long hard life especially when everyone is gone and I'm left with so many responsibilities I just don't have the strength for.
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university's bathroom... you're my favourite appointment.
blood running through my pants.
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i'm clean
bitch, your fingers bleeds almost every day because you destroy them.
bitch, your nails are at the limit because you eat them.
bitch, your knuckles are red because you bite them.
but "you're clean"
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I showered myself so i could be lovely for you.
I brushed my teeth so you could kiss me.
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I keep looking at that clock that goes by constantly thinking that this will never end. I fell for it many times and I'll fall back many other times. Never-ending story. And I can't study for this thought.
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I would like to do it, I know I can't, I know that I wouldn't do it only for others and not for myself. I thought I had reached 15 days, I was happy, then I remembered that 2 days ago I had done it again. Now I have to start all over again. Every time I look at the scars, though, and see them disappearing, I feel lonely and melancholy. As if I had the right to do others scars so I wouldn't be alone.
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