• I would've bled out if you told me you liked the color red
• I am so mad and annoyed with everyone around me. I think I am just tired
• I don't want to be soft anymore. I want to be bloody knuckles and glass shards and I want people to be afraid of hurting me
• these violent delights have violent ends
• I'm petrified of being alone; it's pathetic
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Anxiety
PoetryAnxiety is hard; I decided to write this 5 years ago and I rarely update. I come back to read what I had as this description, "there is no escape." I lied, there is an escape. I don't know how to feel to about this book anymore but most seem to enjo...
