𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔰.

It’s always been there in one way or another. When I was little I would steal, even from people I loved. My best friend, my siblings,
I remember I stole money from my dad once, it probably was around 200 kr. When I got older, in my preteens my love
for destruction would start to manifest on my own body, like a painting of defeat. i started wearing
long sleeves all the time, I would lock myself in the bathroom and scratch my arms.
Long stripes of red, hot, irritated skin down my whole arms.

I don’t remember ever crying. It escalated to scissors and then razors,
cliché, right? When I was 14 a new plan of destruction and world domination came up.
Again, I was the canvas. This time it was starving.
Going on days and days without barely eating, and keeping track of my weight.
It’s kind of funny, in a way, because I used to be the
ugly one, the fat one. But as I starved myself I got to
see firsthand that
1) no one cares about you and
2) hah, it does get better. Now I’m not the ugly one anymore.
I’m the one people want to be, they want my body,
for some reason they want my mind. They just don’t know what it took
me to get here, what it took me to get ”the perfect body”.
Just so you know, I still see myself as the ugly
one. When I was 15 I started shoplifting again. And at 16 I started taking hard drugs.
And here we are now, 17. I am still in love with destruction,
and now it’s body and mind, and everyone else.

I want to take drugs. So. Bad. I want to feel fucked up, be pure.
I want to have fun and laugh. I don’t feel like it’s something I need, but I want it so bad.
And I want to have sex. And I want you to use me as you please.
For I am nothing, I am worthless;
♡♡♡destroy me so I don’t have to do it myself.♡♡♡
And I want you to love me, I let you love me.
And I leave you. It’s so strange,
ever since my dad left me when I was 11 I’ve alway had this
irrational fear of being left
again. I haven’t really gotten it before,
but now when I look beck I can tell where those
feelings came from. I’ve always been
afraid of people leaving. And then I
realized, as it hit me.
I’ve been the one leaving people.
I’ve been the one making them fall in love,
just to leave them after that. I mean,
all those guys I would write to only for drugs and alcohol.
All the time we spent together, all the times I
told you I’d be here forever. And now it’s gone.
Because I tore your heart apart, because I didn’t
want to try again. Or like when I told her how much
I loved her when I was high, and that I kissed her.
I made her feel special, just to tell her a couple of months
later that I can’t have her in my life anymore.
I’m trying to make it up again. I’m trying
to fix things. But some hearts are broken for
longer than others. And I’m scared I’ll hurt him
too, in the end. I am the first girl he’s
ever been in love with.
It’s either forever or I break him, too.

I’ll never escape it.

Is this something you can be born with? Is it something you can get rid of????

YOU TOLD ME YOU FORGAVE ME BUT YOU NEVER DID, DID YOU?? YOU'VE ALWAYS
THOUGHT OF ME AS SO DIRTY AND I FELT DIRTY. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE ME FEEL DISGUSTING,
I WASN'T REALLY. YOU MADE ME OBESSED WITH THE IDEA OF PURITY. YOU PLANED THE SEEDS IN
MY BRAIN TO THINK THAT I HAD BEEN INFECTED WITH SOMETHING SO UNPURE.
I FELT LIKE I HAD TO PUKE, YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE I HAD TO. I DON'T REGRET A SINGLE
THING. AND YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE FACT
THAT YOU'VE LOST ME. YOU'VE LOST ME YOU'VE LOST ME.

he loves me, right? i pretend like it doesn't bother me that you hurt me so much. but you put more cuts into me than i've been able to express. the scars are healing, they really are. yet you are on your own, soaking in your own pain that i left.
of course it would end with me leaving.
i meant nothing to you.

I'm armed to the teeth
Like a fucking animal
Like a fucking animal
I ruin everything
I get my bony hands on

And here we go, now
Over the bridge of sighs
We will get a cross like Christ, crucified
It's like a birth but it is in reverse
Never gets better, always gets worse

im so damn into you...

you reminded me a lot of him, did i ever tell you that?
no, why would i have? i was scared you'd
get mad if i told you what was on my mind.
but you reminded me of him. because i was afraid
of you from time to time.
just like i was scared to death that he'd kill me
in my sleep when i was nine, i was scared you'd
do the same when i was seventeen. i was scared
you'd plot out to kill me if i left you. that you'd
think that if you couldn't have me, no one could.
because we were meant to be together, right?
yeah, you and me, forever.
but it didn't go as planned. and i remember that
time on new years, when you sat on the floor and i
tried to talk to you.
then all of a sudden i was there again, i was in the kitchen
that night. i heard the glass shatter, the screaming. i heard
my mother cry, and i felt the fear again.
i wish i would have just told you there and then. i wish
i would have snapped at you. i wish i would have screamed,
i wish i would have let myself be angry.
but i didn't. just like with my dad, i kept silent.
i was his good girl. i was his sweet little angel
too good for this world.
but inevitably, he destroyed me.
just like us, inevitably, fell apart...

Turn the station, there's something crawling in
The hounds are restless, you can hear them sing
The water rises, trembling as it breathes
You said you felt a quick shift in the breeze

In the night they'll find you all alone
With the color red surrounding your throat
They were in their bedrooms, eyes were closed
When the siren sounded, they woke

In the night they'll find you all alone
With the color red surrounding your throat

I guess that some people always will enjoy life in momentary lapses of happiness.
Some of us will never have more. No more than that cigarette and nicotine rush,
no more than the pills or the joints. Lines
of cocaine or sex. Being used and using. Yet I feel like happiness is overrated.
The goal of a constant happy state can leave one more depressed than ever because
you realize that you can't. The myth of living a happy life. But I don't want to settle
for just enough. I want more. I am greedy. But I find myself empty. Starving.
What makes life worth living? Alcohol? Work? Is anyone really happy with their existence?
But that is dangerous too, because if everything was perfect then we have nothing
to work for, but what if you don't know? Don't know what you want or see the future?

The dangerous thing with drugs, alcohol, nicotine is that we always hear that it is dangerous. And it
creates this opposite effect because we all hear it growing up, and
once you hit rock bottom once you become a teen it's the easiest way to kill yourself
or feel that temporary happiness. Which in and of itself creates a much more evil spiral.
Of happiness and death. Self harm, destruction.
We want to go against our parents for fucking us up and we want to punish
ourselves for existing. By giving ourselves temporary fillers of the emptiness inside,
that we very well know won't last forever. And once we reach a point
when it's not enough anymore we just want more, always more. Harder drugs,
more shots, wasting money on cigarettes and breaking up with your boyfriend
because the sex isn't good anymore. It's like the constant search for the idea of happiness
that has been shoved down our throats since we were kids is the very thing that destroys
us in the end. But what are we supposed to do? Not try to search
for happiness? Be as passive as we can in our lives?
I wish I had an answer.

Sometimes I can feel envy for people who believe, because they have this childlike trust for something. And it keeps them going.
They have someone to be good for. Something they always can be happy for... Except for when their god betrays them.
When they realize that they aren't shielded of the bad just because they have that belief. And it's as depressing as always,
living just to die. It haunts me. Every moment is fleeting. No matter how much fun I have or how much happiness I
feel in that very second or minute or hour; I always come
back here. In my bed trying to sleep alone again, and I reflect on what has passed and sometimes is feels
like maybe I shouldn't have this much fun. Because the sad times becomes more sad when you have good things
to look back on. And you just wish you could be there again, and experience it all again.
Maybe the thing I hold so dear is eating me alive, the memories that I so cherish. The pictures of you, the poems
I've written. Sometimes I just struggle to see the point of it all. Yet I don't want to die,
because life is all I have, no matter now hard it gets it's all I know, and it's comfort.
And despite hating it, the temporariness is what I life for, as an always and forever makes us take it for granted.
It's a fine line I guess. And it's clogging my mind,
from time to time. But as always, I guess this feeling will pass too.

no one is ever going to want me

⓪⑧/⓪⑧/②⓪②⓪
⓪⑧/⓪①/②⓪①⓪
②⑧/⓪①/②⓪②①
⓪①/⓪①/②⓪①④
⓪②/⓪④/②⓪①⑨
⓪⑧/⓪⑤/②⓪②⓪
①⑨/⓪①/②⓪②①
②⑤/⓪⑤/②⓪①⑧
①⑧/①②/②⓪①⑤
①②/①⓪/②⓪①⑧
⓪④/⓪①/②⓪②①

stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i
mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something
to you stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something
to you stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something
to you stop pretending like i mean something to you stop pretending like i mean something to you
stop pretending like i mean something to you stop
pretending like i mean something to you like i mean something to you like
i mean something to you like i mean something to you like i mean
something to you like i mean something to you like i mean something to you
like i mean something to you like i mean something

⒫ʀ✿𝓫ᜊᛒꝉᒏ ∏Ởᵵ ⅁ꝏ𝖉 ℐん 𝔐⒴ 𐭄ℰ𐌀ꝺ...
ꝆᴓꜾ𝒦 ƫᶣ𝓮 𝓓ƆƟʁ 𝕒𐊏ȡ ⅃ꜽ ꝺꙨⓦᕡ べᛋℑᶑᵌ 𝕞㋓
℘ℓ𐌄𝖆ᔆ∋ ɳệ⩡ⱻℜ ᛚᴱ𝙖ṽ𝓔 ꝕᶩᶓ𝕒Ꞩʚ 𝒅ꘫ⨅𝓉 ᶢߐ...

𝓳ⓐᵷ ȁɽ ᔋȧ 𝚓ǟⱴᴌ🄰 ᚡ𝖎Ƌɾⅈɡ, 𝗷𝖺ⷶᵹ ꝻӪℜꞆʲäᴻ🅐ʁ इൻて Ɖ𝙄 𝓖

Jag börjar alltid tro att någon älskar mig.
Jag tror att den personen
som betyder hela världen för mig
anser att jag också gör det.
Och det är ju vad ni säger till mig.
Ni säger att jag betyder allt.
Att jag är den vackraste som finns,
att jag förtjänar all kärlek i hela universum.
Ni säger att ni aldrig skulle skada mig,
att ni vill att det ska vara vi förevigt.
Men, det blir ju aldrig så.
Det slutar aldrig som jag tror att det ska.
För människor är så bra på att förstöra saker.
Jag är inte oskyldig, jag vet.
När det gått ett tag och de
tunna lager av perfektion har blivit
avskalade som om jag vore en potatis,
så går det att se.
Här finns ingen perfektion. Här finns ångest,
depression, självskadebeteende,
droganvändning, någon som
konstant behöver bekräftelse
och uppmärksamhet.
Jag förstörde dig,
men du förstörde mig minst lika mycket.
Och du lovade mig världen minst lika mycket.
Du lovade mig kärlek, så mycket kärlek.
Vem är du utan mig?
Finns du ens? Varför älskar jag människor som
skadar mig tillslut? Varför älskar jag människor som vill
ha mig som deras trofé? Varför älskar
jag människor som bara vill ha sex med mig?
Jag vet inte vad jag ska säga.
Jag kanske inte förtjänar bättre.

㎼ⰻꞎ𝚕 ⅈ ɛ𝒗ᶓᚱ ∾𝓽ⱺ𝔭 𝑓𐬟ᴇ𐌋㏌𝕘 ᴌᴉ𝓴𝖊ᅵ ɗᵋ𐊖ℰ𐌓𝙫ｪ ʈ𐊭 ℱ𝘦𝕖𐑊 Ꝕₐไン

Back home, off the run
Singing songs that make you slit your wrists
It isn't that much fun,
staring down a loaded gun
So I won't stop dying, won't stop lying
(are you there at all?)
If you want I'll keep on crying
(do you care at all?)
Did you get what you deserve?
(are you there at all?)
Is this what you always want me for?

Find no love in flesh but only weapons
The ones that do the most damage
There is no peace in life, but only death


.............If I believe good wombs have borne bad sons...

Then I have no qualms using my gun
I only love the things that I can hurt,
Can hurt..
Taking baths in all of the bloodshed
From the shots I put into your head
I'll shoot and break my nose from the blow

What doesn't kill me makes me wish I was dead

why didn't anyone tell me,
love is like being fucked with a knife.

"When I'm good I'm really good, but when I'm bad I'm better."
("I'm yours forever, I'm yours forever")

I really feel that. Like, I want to be soft, I wan't to feel content and I want to be okay.
When I'm good, I want to take care of myself.
When I'm good, I'm good.
But when I'm bad. The worse I feel inside, the more masochistic I become.
I want everyone and everything to hurt me, and I want to hurt myself.
It's this constant up and down, I want to do good and be good,
I want to be soft and let myself be vunreable. But
when I get bad, I want to stuff myself
with substances and party to get away, I want to be used, I want to mean nothing.
I want to be treated as badly as I feel. And I want to starve
myself and I want to destroy my skin and see if
maybe then I can feel something other than bad, bad, bad.
It's like the pain becomes pleasure. I restrict myself though.
I am better when I'm bad. Because then I'm the girl
who doesn't care. I'm the skinny girl in the
little skirt drinking more and more, I'll follow anyone
into the woods. I'll dance. I don't care. But I try my best to be just, good.
For you. You make me feel like I deserve more.
You make me feel like I deserve to lay in a
heartshaped bed full of pillows and having
you there, holding me tight. You give me soft kisses that makes my knees weak.
Maybe this is the best way of self destruction? Who cares
about drugs, alcohol, sex, parties, adrenaline, when you can
be so in love? You read me books so I can fall asleep at night
and you sit there on calls and listen to me cry
and you tell me it's going to be alright.
It's scary to love someone. It's so scary

𝔖𝔗𝔒𝔓 𝔓ℜ𝔈𝔗𝔈𝔑𝔇ℑ𝔑𝔊 𝔜𝔒𝔘'ℜ𝔈 𝔖𝔒𝔐𝔈𝔒𝔑𝔈 𝔜𝔒𝔘'ℜ𝔈 𝔑𝔒𝔗. 𝔚ℌ𝔒 𝔇𝔒 𝔜𝔒𝔘 𝔗ℌℑ𝔑𝔎 𝔜𝔒𝔘 𝔄ℜ𝔈. 𝔜𝔒𝔘
𝔉𝔘ℭ𝔎ℑ𝔑𝔊 𝔓𝔄𝔗ℌ𝔈𝔗ℑℭ 𝔗𝔈𝔈𝔑𝔄𝔊𝔈 𝔊ℑℜ𝔏. 𝔖𝔗𝔒𝔓 𝔉𝔈𝔈𝔏ℑ𝔑𝔉 𝔖𝔒 𝔐𝔘ℭℌ 𝔓ℑ𝔗𝔜
𝔗𝔒𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔇𝔖 𝔜𝔒𝔘ℜ𝔖𝔈𝔏𝔉. 𝔜𝔒𝔘 𝔇ℑ𝔖𝔊𝔘𝔖𝔗 𝔐𝔈. 𝔉𝔘ℭ𝔎ℑ𝔑𝔊
𝔄𝔗𝔗𝔈𝔑𝔗ℑ𝔒𝔑 𝔚ℌ𝔒ℜ𝔈. 𝔑𝔒𝔅𝔒𝔇𝔜 ℭ𝔒𝔘𝔏𝔇 𝔊ℑ𝔙𝔈 𝔏𝔈𝔖𝔖 𝔒𝔉 𝔄 𝔖ℌℑ𝔗 𝔄𝔅𝔒𝔘𝔗 𝔜𝔒𝔘.

i did this to myself. i did this to
myself. i did this to myself. i did this
to myself. i did this to myself. i did
this to myself. i did this to myself. i
did this to myself. i did this to myself.
i did this to myself. i did this to
myself. i did this to myself. i did this
to myself. i did this to myself. i did
this to myself. i did this to myself. i
did this to myself. i did this to myself.
i did this to myself. i did t
his to myself. i did
this to myself. i did
this to mysel
f. i did
this to mysel
f. i did th
is to myself. i did th
is to myself. i did th
is to myself. i did th
is to myself. i d
id this to myse
lf. i did this to mys
elf. i did this to myself.
i did this to myself.
i did this to myself. i did t
his to myself.
oh god i
did this to
myself.

so empty, where did it all go?