ill beat this thing
oh mind why won't you behave
i hate it when you're like this
it's been about 6 (7?) long years, a temperamental sequence of starting and stopping and being. i'm so tired of waking up with a swollen face, eyes swollen shut. i guess as much as there are people around me, the most malicious of murmurs come from within, seeping through the crevices of muscle and memory.
every day i ask myself why. was i born like this? how did this start? where was my preface?
why didn't anyone tell me that id be stuck at close to a decade of internalised hell..
i hate myself. everything. could use a bit of saving right about now.
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