James Da Giant Peach

Contemplating if I should start writing again. I know it’s been forever.

Merry Christmas dude. Fuck holidays though

thanks for the follow~

Losing touch with what's real. Losing touch with how to feel. Fucking dissociating. This lifestyles so god damn nauseating. I don't want a second chance. I can't make it through the day. At a loss of words to say. Trying to get off the ground. But the shitabyss is weighting down. It's all around.
          
          Suffocate me. Bury me alive. Good friends are now dead fiends. Every morning they're grasping at my legs. Pulling me into the mud. I beg for the pain to fade. Just give me one fucking moment to catch my breath. I inhale and exhale death.
          
          Tying on the dinosaurs, she said, one day you're gonna end up dead.
          Tying on the dinosaurs, she said, one day you're gonna end up dead.
          
          One day I'm gonna lose the war. One day at a time.
          One day I'm gonna lose the war. One day at a time.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/290747280?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=JamesDaGiantPeach&wp_originator=b1EnWaa3FjHHZHFlTDd%2B7W4JoYZhCaq9NLxudCAIezWtNKPO%2BHWPVGDxbcCB77vXSTsmCWZUyAxF8g2zpIeBb%2FvXr0HfcAbZogMcFwdlZZLy%2F1D%2FhK%2Bl0PXFkbBO8to%2F
          
          

3 new poems!! Please check em out. Let me know what you really think about it. ❤️
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/290747280

Skeletons locked in my closest with all of my dirty laundry. Trying to keep the door closed, but I'm too fucking scrawny. Dying from anxiety neurosis. Liver's rotting in cirrhosis. Drowning in another bottle. I just want to be a modern day aristotle. I'll probably overdose before that. I should of been born an aristocrat. Instead you can find me in the alley that you left me in. Here I am, paper skin, glass bones. Looking down on from upon your throne. I can't keep this door closed any longer. If only I was stronger.
          
          

"she don't love me, she just loves my xanny bars..." 
          - Pink Cig

Sipping on this poison mixture. Scrolling through our old pictures. In love with my own self torture. Trapped in her still-frame horror. I wish she knew how much I loved her. I'm still not good enough for her. I can't seem to get you off my mind; no matter what I fucking do. They say love is blind. Still, it shouldn't be this hard to find.
          
          The worst feeling is when your love isn't reciprocated. I'm feeling so goddamn unappreciated. Trying to numb all my pain. Poisons sprinting through my veins. She told me she wasn't mine. Whispered in my ear " James don't call me baby..." This is starting to feel a little to crazy.
          
          I tried to call, we still don't speak. My beds been empty for two whole weeks. I'm still not good enough for her. 

thanks 4 the follow back!