the voices in my head.

july 1 2018.

12:32 am.

You know, you know, no, you don't, you don't

How many more times will they tell me to "talk"

I can't even talk to you/me

How am I supposed to talk to someone else?

I don't know why I feel so disgusting because someone else acted so disgusting with me, you know?

I don't know why I set myself up to be attacked by you sometimes, you know?

I don't know if I want help or not, you know?

When you've lived in the dark for so long, you find your own comfort there

Being happy is so foreign I feel like I don't deserve it, you know?

I'm 16 & I already feel like I'm closing in on death, you know?

I feel like I'm playing the victim in a situation where I am the victim, you know?

I want to disappear because I like being alone, but I hate being lonely, you know?

I think I'm a museum that needs to be burned to the ground, you know?

Maybe one day we'll stop talking, or maybe even become friends

But until then, you don't fucking know!

{copyright 2018 madame-santana.}