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theslavicshadiw · 2 months
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theslavicshadiw · 2 months
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My therapist once told me, “You are the guiltiest feeling person I’ve ever met” and just to prove her right, I took it to heart. An astrologer said, “You have so much water in your chart. What is it like to feel the emotions of every single person alive, everyday?” and I wept because I sensed he was displeased. A teacher told my parents “She’s very sensitive. Far more than the other kids in her class.” I took my SATs at 9 years old, but they encouraged my mother to hold me back because of how my eyes glistened when I heard the word no. She told them to go to hell. So I cried my way through my education until high school when they said “You take everything so personally, you’ll never survive in a company environment. You wouldn’t make a good employee.” So I employed myself (out of spite or…necessity) and then later, I hired 200 people. A boyfriend told me “Don’t be so dramatic, everything isn’t a movie.” Fine, so it’ll be an album then. The doctor said “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.” I tread daily on a minefield that leaves me classifying the variations in footsteps, the tonality in voice, a change in breath. “Is everything okay? You seem mad” is my pledge of allegiance to this tightly wound bundle of flesh. I am cut open, butterflied and flayed, with every single nerve exposed like live wires and, yes, they all hurt to touch. Each interaction is a litmus test of how well liked I am, and therefore how worthy to live. I wake up every morning and the moral barometer resets, T-minus 12 hours to prove to myself that I am not the bad person I believe I must be. Sleep, repeat. An amnesiac nightmare. Prometheus on a rock and the gull in my guts is myself. I once envied those with greater armor, but not anymore. “Why do you care so much?” Guard yourself from the little grievances, but the shield does not differentiate. The space where I am vulnerable to the pain that passes through is an entry point for the microscopic good that others may miss. I live in technicolor torment. If I could do it over again and choose the comfortable grey, I would seize a knife and cut the little keyholes back into my every limb. So the light can get in.
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theslavicshadiw · 2 months
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I do not find peace in my melancholy.
My sadness is not serene.
I am bloodthirsty.
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theslavicshadiw · 2 months
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The window pane is 20 knives, all cutting through my fragile life. Someone new peeking through the room. I fear the name you whispered is mine, I’ll know it soon. I’m headless, I’m just limbs. I think they’re coming in. I already died, so this is extra time. I already died, so now I see it open eyed. I already died, so I am justified. I already died. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.
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theslavicshadiw · 4 months
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theslavicshadiw · 5 months
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when it rains it pours,
but how big must a puddle grow
before it is considered a pond?
when does a pond become a lake?
i’m drowning,
but i insist that i’m dry.
insist i couldn’t die.
now every single day is overtime.
is extra credit.
is derealized.
i’m drowning but i
wring my clothes
and promise that i’m dry.
it’s good for the flowers, they say.
that’s very good.
you’ll need them soon.
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theslavicshadiw · 5 months
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theslavicshadiw · 7 months
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Him&I
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theslavicshadiw · 8 months
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theslavicshadiw · 8 months
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#Lizziesaltzman
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theslavicshadiw · 8 months
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Girls turn 14, and slowly start morphing into one of the bitches.
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theslavicshadiw · 8 months
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theslavicshadiw · 9 months
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The Saltzman Twins
“I love you.”
“You freaking better.”
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theslavicshadiw · 9 months
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theslavicshadiw · 9 months
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theslavicshadiw · 9 months
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theslavicshadiw · 10 months
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