“We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, 'I survived'.”

― Chris Cleave, The Other Hand

Hold me while ecstasy takes me high above the clouds while I shudder against you.

Posting this again cause no matter how many times I listen to it...it still makes me shed painful tears🖤🖤🖤🖤
Thankyou debbie, my love.

I am an overly emotional unemotional clingy but distant private person who likes to overshare at any moment and I'm still trying to figure out how that works.

Oh God, grant me the ability to write clearly because my voice is broken and fragmented, and grant my chest a peace that does not hurt anyone or hurt anyone's heart.

Do you ever just want to sit outside and talk with someone all night?

My OCD is killing me

Some people pop pills, I cut. We all have our vices.

Oh you,
You don't know what this world can do to a fool like me💔

Oh you,
You don't know what LOVE can do to a fool like me.💔

I am afraid of my mind

I am a slave to it.

One thing I always struggle with is making the ones I love understand everything I do in life. My life as in a life bruised with depression,anxiety and other mental illnesses I am not sure about...yet. living with anxiety and depression is far from living a normal life like a normal person. You are forced to deal with constant triggers,mood swings,fear,anger,tiredness...constant feeling of tiredness,sadness,sleep paralysis,loss of motivation and many more I can't express with words. I have never been this open on here but most days I feel absent for a reason I amnot aware of. I feel lost and sad without any specific reason . When my mind notices it I dont have any answers to its questions...when that same question comes from the people I love I don't say anything cause how can i answer something i can't even understand. How?
When you are me.your loved ones have many questions and in world that sees mental illness as a demon embodying you...no word that comes out of your mouth will ever make sense. You'll try to make it make sense but you will die trying. Your loved ones will love you but they won't carry the burden of being you nor know what it's like to be YOU. Almost all your days they won't understand why you are the way you are. But loving them somedays eases the pain. They have a power over you. Here is what it is. You are a wound. They are the anesthetic and the blade. They can ease your pain but also cut you open. I can't even begin to write that pain of being misunderstood. There is this part of a movie which says " sometimes I just wish that I could fade away because it's easier to be alone e than it is to constantly be misunderstood by the ones I love the most." That says it all for me. I know some of you know that unbearable pain. For that i am sorry. But what can we do. That is the power of Love. Somedays it mends. Somedays it breaks....and we....we are the poor slaves....despite what it makes us feel we are obliged to do what it wants. Even if most days our heart craves what kills it. Because it is what makes it Beat in the first place.
-Yeab T🖤-

#rhyme
#Sinday
#explicit (light)

An Artist

I usually cross the line, baby—call me "beyond."
Steering out of the common lane is what drives me on.
My art takes her breath away, gasping her response.
"Your womb is my canvas; you liking how I draw?"
She breathes, "I can't see it, painted in the dark."
"Close your eyes and, baby, you'll see it all.
"The scratches form slow, the sketches are raw."
Once she feels the passion of my strokes,
She demands, "Paint like you have a gallery show.
"Paint like this is your last night before due.
"I want your paintbrush to drip till it has no more hue."
Her words make it hard... for me to think.
I go deeper in the bottle of ink.
I really can't swim, but I love the way I sink.