People ask questions about the past,
what I have done, what was done to me
to sharpen such a tongue
or harden a heart,
who finally broke me, and
in how many ways. They ask of
my nightmares, about what I don’t write.
They say, ”Tell me a secret.”
Well, I don’t have any, and that is
the bulk of the problem.
godfuckingdammit i QUIT. done. i am done.
this is fucking perfect and i wanna cry.
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lifeinthearctic reblogged this from inchesgiven and added:
godfuckingdammit i QUIT. done. i am done. this...fucking perfect and i wanna cry.
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mollypeck liked this
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mollypeck said:
this makes me bristle
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inchesgiven posted this
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