I think a part of her always knew she wasn’t destined for a happy ending, so the rest of her made sure she would never get one
—  (Via - Solana R. )
Self destruction takes so many forms other than a razor slicing into your skin. It is only eating sweets for days straight. It is being around people who don’t appreciate you. It is kissing people you dont care for. It is sleeping instead of feeling. And it is not sleeping when you feel too much. It is an inbox filled with unread messages. It is having coversations with those who only notice your physical appearance. It is having people in your life that are only there for their own interests. It is staring at a screen for hours straight when reality requests you. It is ignoring those who do care for you, and pushing them away because you don’t deserve their goodness. It is filling free time with activities that keep your energy stagnant, rather than doing things you love. It is engaging in old, retired habits, engaging with people who knew you only at a bad part of your life. It is constantly being around others. It is knowing your limit, and intentionally going past it. It is not showering, or washing your face. It is staying silent when you are consumed by feeling. It is avoiding responsibilities. It is acting on impulses like shopping, crossing, or touching. It is saying yes when you mean no. It is letting others take advantage of you. It is letting them manipulate you because it’s another trap you can “accidentally” fall into. It is so much more than hurting yourself physically. So what I’m trying to say is no, I haven’t exactly been okay.

There’s a moment so cold, so full of loneliness and burning fear.

When you lay in silence
And your chest feels like
Your heart was breaking
Over and over again
In there.
And all there is inside of you
Is desperation and fear.
No personality,
No sense of life,
No soul.
There’s just nothing.
You are nothing.
And then there’s this
Voice in your sick brain
That keeps whispering
And every word it says
Makes sense.
You are just not made
For this world.
You’re too sensitive,
Too fragile,
Too weak
For this fast and scary and harsh
Fucking world.

And you silently ask yourself
Why you’re still here.

And you find no answer.

—  And you know the answer // so cold