ᅠᅠᅠ〝 ⋆ 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧.ೃ

the sickness is familiar. it is more of a home than four walls could ever be. my sickness is a bitter relief; if i am sick, then i am real. the dead cannot be ill.

it doesn’t come without blood. it doesn’t come without cracked ribs and broken bones. i am clawing my way, stumbling in the dark just as you are, toward a better version of myself.

je me sens mal.

you're addicted to loneliness and desperation. it's the strongest emotion you've ever known, so your subconscious tells you that it's your destiny.

all that magic in your flesh, in your bones, in your blood, it's speaking in broken tongue, a language only the anxious could understand.

there were two reasons i was scared to let people in ; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find .

ᅠ ᅠ ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 𝗘𝗟𝗬𝗔𝗦 𝗧. 𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗦, ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ ✰ 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. ᅠ