I hope i arrive to my death, Late, in love, and a little drunk. - Attitcus II Let this Tumblr be my safe haven. Please do not report or call 911 on me for my posts. II 17 / male / suffering with bpd and severe depression. I know what I deserve now .
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Jan. 2 2019
Can I not do this year? I don’t see myself making it very far. I don’t know what I want to do anymore. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. I am so ungodly stressed you may not even have a slightest clue. I’m so fucking sad, I don’t want to be here. Everyone is so mean to me about my flaws, my past. I understand I have sins, I made mistakes. I’m so sorry. I know I will be forced to have them on my shoulders until I am dead, I don’t want to worry you. Or anyone. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just don’t want to be In this room, in this house, in this town.
I want out, I want out of this world so badly and I don't know what to do, you tell me you are here but I know when stress gets to be too much you are going to leave me. you will leave. not what if. will.
and I don't know how to prepare myself for it regardless of how many times you say you’ll stay.
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But every song I listen to whispers your name.
n.r.m. (via syntacked)
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i never understood why someone would hurt themselves on purpose until i slid a razor across my skin and felt alive again
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“Why must I only be able to write beautiful poems in my most ugly moments?”
- Cynthia Chapman
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