fake idgafer i saw you touching your necklace for comfort

devour me

here is how to offer a sacrificial lamb.
hold it gently, with hands that shake but never close
wrap its small body in threads of guilt, whisper prayers you don’t believe, tie them tight around its throat. paint its back with the shadow of your intentions,
let the knife hover
not yet, not yet. until silence stretches thin and snaps. spill what is left on the altar of almost, watch how the ground drinks it in.
whatever you do, do not flinch when it looks at you.

sometimes you make me wanna put my fucking head through the wall
sometimes i wonder if i even know you at all

i don’t want a boyfriend, i want to lie in a southern gothic church ruin with ethel cain bleeding from my headphones and pretend i’m mourning something i never had.

some girls have a romcom main character voice in their head. i have hannibal lecter telling me i’m unwell in the most poetic way possible

people talk about self-care like it’s candles and yoga but for me it’s skipping dinner, listening to portishead and rewatching hannibal while whispering “me fr” every time will graham looks like he hasn’t slept since 2007