“Go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Do my parents actually think that when I was a kid I done that? Or do they realize that I was just worrying what my punishment was to be, and my heart shuttered as my father opened my bedroom door because of my fear, not remorse or regret?… I’ve never felt these emotions “regret,” “remorse” they feel so foreign in my mind…
Reblog if it’s 100% okay to vent to you.
But you’re so much more than that baby, you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me…
I can feel you healing and I hate it,
like a harpist without hands you only bite the strings
you used to love to touch so much,
to hear the dissonance drain violently and then dissolve
like all the songs I sang but never once could make you smile.
My god, I would kill to make you smile!
I look stoned as fuck… Lmao