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All I do is miss you.

comakid:

all the lonely people stay in rooms. they’re not on the streets. how am i supposed to meet them?

I don’t have the words. I don’t have them for you or for me or for anyone at all who needs them.

comakid:

i ripped out all my veins. they came up like weeds. with roots spread out and matted with dirt and rocks. i buried them in the garden. so that the roots of plants could waltz with them underneath the surface.

comakid:

my fingers are candles. arms kept upright to keep the melted wax from spilling everywhere. and it trickling down my arms. cooling and hardening on my arms. suffocating the pores and hairs. but it’s romantic. yeah. of course it is.

Please stop cutting yourself to pieces.

It was silly to think that.

I am oh so foolish. 

And I have this feeling that I will be for a while…