I am quite literally ripping apart at the seams.
tomorrow is going to be poking blunted objects into the raw wounds of tonight. eventually, though, tomorrow is going to be classified as today and it'll all be terribly lonely and I'll probably have to cry about it, and then I'll get on the bus and veg out and go to school and try and veg out and go to geography and veg out and go to english and pretend like I haven't completely fucked up everything and that half of the class would find me preferably comatose, and go to my other two classes with a migrane and act like I wasn't thisclose to killing myself all weekend and yesterday.
when the hell is somebody going to call me on this?
today, the seams of my left hand ripped apart
I can't remember why I'm bothering
it's time for new meds, I s'pose.