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(bold = personal favorite)
𓂃ㅤi feel like neither a child nor an adult. i am a botched, failed creature, combining the worst qualities of each.
𓂃ㅤshock & awe. blood & bone.
𓂃ㅤit is not true that a burnt child dreads the fire. it is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. it knows that when it goes near it, it will burn itself again. still, it gets too close.
𓂃ㅤthe trees you grew up with have not forgotten you.
𓂃ㅤyou are not your father. you are your own man. man—— no, you’re just a kid. you’re just beginning.
𓂃ㅤi wanted. and this want festered within me, from infection to feverish desire, to have his sinew between my teeth and my tongue lapping at his pulse. / my lips, on his vein.
𓂃ㅤi would defang you, i would pluck your canines from your jaw. i would plunge my fingers into the bleeding holes of your gums. you wouldn't be a monster if you couldn't hurt me.
𓂃ㅤi make coffee. i pretend i'm in love with the idea of being alive. i make a point not to stare at the knives sitting on the counter top by the stove.
𓂃ㅤno one wants a half—remembered tragedy. you must know the width of the knife and how it ruined you, name the organs it kissed.
𓂃ㅤthere is something pathetic about the way a dog loves. i point, you bite. i kick, you crawl. and you keep crawling back, again and again, because if you don't, you're just another stray. because you wouldn't be my dog.
𓂃ㅤalone in spirit, trigger—sensitive, coughing up blood.
𓂃ㅤone day i'll watch as you're leaving and life will lose all its meaning (for the last time.)
𓂃ㅤnever say goodbye. if you don’t say goodbye you aren’t really gone. you just.. aren’t here right now.
𓂃ㅤdisaster follows you like an abandoned dog that you can't help but feed.
𓂃ㅤviolence breeds violence.
𓂃ㅤthere is a monster inside me. i will nourish it.
𓂃ㅤabuse can feel like love ; starved people will eat anything.
𓂃ㅤjust like your dad,you'll never change.
𓂃ㅤif rescuing you is a sin, i'll gladly become a sinner.
𓂃ㅤhe will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen because you had him first, and you would let the world break its own neck if it means keeping him. start by wiping the blood off of his chin and pretending to understand.
𓂃ㅤyou’ll forgive yourself… won’t you?
𓂃ㅤhe lived and died as a human.
𓂃ㅤthat person you once loved no longer exists; i really want to return him to you, but i can only give you a wretched version of your desires.
𓂃ㅤlace against thigh / mouth against flesh
𓂃ㅤhow long ago did i die? where was i buried?
𓂃ㅤi’d rather die as a lamb than have to dress like a wolf.
𓂃ㅤshe loved you and you killed her.
𓂃ㅤyou're useless, less than useless. you're sick. people like you don't deserve to live. your friends are wrong about you. the person they love isn't you at all. you let them believe in a lie to protect yourself. you're nothing but a liar... and when they see the truth... they'll hate you as much as you hate yourself.
𓂃ㅤhe often felt he was made of something liquid, something that was being continually poured from bright-colored bottle to bright-colored bottle, with a little being lost or left behind with each transfer.
𓂃ㅤthe word "no", so short, so easy to say, a child’s sound, a noise more than a word, a sharp exhalation of air: all he had to do was part his lips, and the word would come out, and—and what?
𓂃ㅤhe wished someone would tell him that he was still a full human being despite his feelings; that there was nothing wrong with who he was.
𓂃ㅤwhat is going to happen to me? he asked the sea. what is happening to me?
𓂃ㅤthe axiom of equality states that x always equals x : it assumes that if you have a conceptual thing named x, that it must always be equivalent to itself, that it has a uniqueness about it, that it is in possession of something so irreducible that we must assume it is absolutely, unchangeably equivalent to itself for all time, that its very elementalness can never be altered. but it is impossible to prove. always, absolutes, nevers : these are the words, as much as numbers, that make up the world of mathematics. not everyone liked the axiom of equality... but he had always appreciated how elusive it was, how the beauty of the equation itself would always be frustrated by the attempts to prove it. it was the kind of axiom that could drive you mad, that could consume you, that could easily become an entire life. but now he knows for certain how true the axiom is, because he himself—his very life—has proven it. the person i was will always be the person i am, he realizes. the context may have changed: he may be in this apartment, and he may have a job that he enjoys and that pays him well, and he may have parents and friends he loves. he may be respected... he may even be feared. but fundamentally, he is the same person, a person who inspires disgust, a person meant to be hated. and in that microsecond that he finds himself suspended in the air, between the ecstasy of being aloft and the anticipation of his landing, which he knows will be terrible, he knows that x will always equal x, no matter what he does ... no matter how much he earns or how hard he tries to forget. it is the last thing he thinks as his shoulder cracks down upon the concrete, and the world, for an instant, jerks blessedly away from beneath him: x = x, he thinks. x = x, x = x.
𓂃ㅤit isn’t only that he died, or how he died; it is what he died believing.
𓂃ㅤand so i try to be kind to everything i see, and in everything i see, i see him.
𓂃ㅤthe mouth of his gun was the closest she'd get to a goodbye kiss.
𓂃ㅤyou've instilled a violence in me. drilled it into my bones, placed it in my hands, hid it beneath the soles of my feet. it's mine, now.
𓂃ㅤsometimes i forget how i got here. sometimes i forget how much i didn't want to survive.
𓂃ㅤi am tired of loving you. i am tired of grasping grief like a root in the stumbling dark.
𓂃ㅤi am tired. these people make me feel i have a hole in the middle of me.
𓂃ㅤi have dreamed of you so often, you are no longer real.
𓂃ㅤdepraved boy; touch—starved & strung—out.
𓂃ㅤi want to feed you my body with every sweet part and every bitter one. then i will become sweet again, to eat your body whole, until there is nothing of me left..
𓂃ㅤyou’re a stray dog. you don’t trust people. when people get too close to you, you shake, you shiver… you don’t know whether to lick or bite.
𓂃ㅤtomorrow is a hope, never a promise.
𓂃ㅤi can fit your image if i don't have to admit it, you were long gone before you ever left me. but i'm so scared to live without you.
𓂃ㅤhe'll try to wash it off his fingers, but he'll never escape what he's made of.
𓂃ㅤsinking has no sound, it’s as silent as disappearing without a trace.