feedback loops of bruises coloured blue

-35

the worst day in a while.

even worse than the day that you slipped up and ripped yourself open. even that was only a -20. you were so tired then but you stopped yourself and got rid of them after that first one.

you thought you were doing better but don't fool yourself.

a always says that this game of tallying up points for events is unhealthy. honestly, she's right. especially since you're hiding in a fucking bathroom to type this all out. can you even make it to tuesday without ruining everything.

you're just a fuck up. you always have been and you're kind of always a bitch. nobody wants to be friends with you, honestly.

you're a mess.

normal people don't act, don't react, like that.

you're never going to get close to anyone. everything you try is too little too late. there's honestly no point in even trying anything.

it's fucking ridiculous to feel like shit and like you're not worth anything at all when just a few days ago you were telling a that your week was an eight. why can't you figure out how to not be a disappointment to everyone you know.

there's an empty space in your drawer at home. it should scare you, how easily the thought of wanting those instruments back slides into your mind. you don't need to be here, burdening everyone you ever cared about and taking up space by existing.

maybe if you wait long enough everyone will forget you and be all the better for it.

and where he ended up no one knew

The picture of you in my mind is hazy. There are so many little details that I've forgotten: your height against mine, the exact shape of your smile, the spikes of your hair, the cadence of your voice and the tones of your laughter, the gestures you would make.

But there are some things that aren't so easy to forget. Some things that time can't blur from memory.

It's easy to remember you. A wonderful person with a good heart who welcomed so many of us into a home when we didn't know we needed it, who inspired us to enjoy life.

Forever eighteen, so brilliantly alive and vibrant.

Is it unfair of me to say this? It must be infinitely harder for the others. But even so...

Seven years has gone so fast. I've lived more of my life without you than I did with you.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.