alltheavenueslookugly

molly –

we’re getting sloppy.

if you agree we can staple our tongues together and tie nooses around our necks while we share our secrets – loud, bloody, sweet, and full of surprises while the clock skips minutes around us and we find ourselves still alive when the daylight comes –

it’s 2:30 a.m.

i can whisper to you that i am so tired of life and it hurts.

you can try and tell me that it will get better – that i will feel better tomorrow or five minutes or five years from now – and i know you have great intentions but you are singing to me in off-key lies and have no idea what it feels like inside my head when my head is hanging low and mumbling about how it’s an alternating alcohol and ativan kind of experience and you’ll say that you cannot judge me because you don’t know how it feels when i have to try and calm myself down.

– and we’ll sit in bed and hug each other and just being close to you…

don’t dare ask me about my suicide stories right now.

because if our tongues aren’t moving then you know already know all the shitty details and all the times i woke up in bright hospital rooms with somebody beside me stroking my hair saying ‘sean, it’s okay and nobody is mad at you…’

thank you. there will be enough time later for the disappointment, now that my stomach has been pumped and my eyes have opened

let’s not stop this and please tell me better stories and jokes and dreams.

love,

sean

~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2015/02/27.

Posted in february15
Tags: anxiety, bipolar disorder, depression, guilt, hating self, love, mental illness, posts about suicide, psychiatric hospital, self harm, sleep