spring was...

awful.

it's such a shame how time flies. my head is empty, and my thoughts are non-sensical.
non-sensical nonsense for thoughts, joy. this city's a mess and i just want to get out. you hold me back, and even though in my heart i feel that nothing will ever become of us, of this. i want to stay, just to be near you. be close to you. the other one is telling me something about his past, and his old, trouble-some ways, and i'm on the brink of tearing up, but i hold it in. 'oh' i say. i send a little heart, it's the only emotion i have left. a little pixelated less than three.

'don't, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.' he says

fucking weak. thats how that makes me feel. im swallowing the vomit back again. this is the fifth day i've tasted puke in my mouth, and the in five days, i've already thrown up twice. i hate myself sometime, i really do. how i look, my teeth, my skin, my wirey hair, my face, the arches of my back, and the tilt of my hips. i hate my knobly knees, the way my nails never grow because i bite them before they have a chance too. i hate the curve of my toes, and the way my belly button is neither an innie, or an outie. i hate the sound of my voice, or how my eyes droop down at the sides. i loathe myself everyday, because i can't stand the person i am, and i don't know how to change. i need to get out of the house, even though it's quite becoming.

our song plays. fuck you itunes shuffle. next.

this room, this prison, these four walls are where i am and where i will stay. objects collecting dust, and i collect with them. i take a break because the bile in my mouth won't go back down, and i force it with water. i lost my colours. i'm not the cute, intelligent, shy and curious child i once was. i've started sneaking cancer sticks from my mom, she buys them in packs of 5. a pack is gone, i don't know where. i buy a pack from the candy store, in a few days its non-existant. i'm always showering, trying to wash the dirt, and guilt of my body. i spent the night in some other town you know, a while back? and he was always on my mind. nothing happened, almost.

wash the dirt and guilt, but it's funny how the stains just won't go.