svftpeachesx

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to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you.

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fr

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the exhaustion of living is heavy when everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies.

it’s all so loud…

it’s all consuming…

and all i can do is continue to live?

and for what? a chance?

a chance that i too won’t drop like a fly? that i too will beat the exhaustion and feel alive once more?

two is a weird number now.

two have made me heavy, and two have made me think… what if it were me? my brother? my sister?

would anyone pretend to care like they pretend now?

would anyone tell anyone? or would it just be kept a secret amongst few and a topic amongst many?

would i have had to find out through context clues? would i have had to piece it all together on my own?

i’m separated from them, but they never seem to ask the simple question of why…

and the why is this…

when someone takes their own life, it’s the only time they show any care. it’s the only time they pretend, but they didn’t even seem to pretend for the second life.

they didn’t care enough to inform the rest of the family, or maybe they did, and my brother and i weren’t considered that.

when i tried to leave this earth, i was told that i was supposed to be watching my little sister… i was not met with kindness or care. i was never checked up on afterwards, but instead i was ridiculed for lashing out. i was ridiculed for trying to make sense of what i didn’t know. i was never taught but instead had to learn on my own…

i wonder if the two spent their lives lashing out, hoping someone would answer. should that someone have been me? if not me, then who?

but maybe i should try to be a part of the family that pretends to care… because, if i did so, maybe they would begin to truly care. you think they would truly care, but when they make no effort to know you as a child, why would they want to truly know me as an adult?

and maybe that’s my fault

maybe the short responses were my fault, but when everything i spoke was met with something discouraging or uninterested, i’m silenced. who wouldn’t be?

were they silenced?

were they told to reach out and then told to be quiet?

were they told to talk about themselves just to be invalidated?

i hope they are both validated as they lay on their eternal beds, eyes closed, basking under moonlight.

i hope the earth is kind to their souls.

i hope flowers bloom wherever their spirit decides to wander.

and i hope…

if they desire…

that they get to live a life free of exhaustion

and maybe if they get the opportunity to do so, i will, too.

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i’ve become so exhausted with existing. i cannot seem to spend a single day without completely falling into derealzation. i’m so tired.

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i’ve finally come back to this account after like 2 years just to turn it into some sad venting account lol but that’s okay. i made a new account to post about chappell roan and cats so it can’t be that bad

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doing everything to get away from myself

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From one of my old poems

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Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Eat”

[Text ID: “I am trying to stop doing / things that don’t make any sense. Body, / forgive me. I am trying. I am trying. I am still trying.]

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Strength is light ☀

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The love below, Igor Chekachkov

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ohhhh my god webb got an image of the pillars of creation and it’s absolutely STUNNING.

here it is compared to hubbles image: