Wednesday, July 22, 2009
When it's not worth dying for.
And tonight I walk through an empty street~ With my shadow stretching in front of me ~ When my lonely thoughts meet my lonely feet~ And the cold reminds me that I've chosen this life~
Getting out of trauma is like getting out of a... sandpit? You don't know if you should actually move. Like walking over broken glass. Stepping on a mine. Pulling the trigger. Being on the brink of suicide.
Or just finishing a fucking history essay.
(11:13 PM)
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