i can imagine myself seeing someone with cuts on their wrists (or wherever)… and i imagine myself getting jealous of them… missing the fresh wounds, the blood, the scabs to pick at, the newly made scars.
i’m trying to recover from SI, but it’s no easy task.
hey phoebe I love you and think your pretty and may the force be with you
Im Ila and im fond of zombies, tea, and rock and roll. we are twisted little children who play with fire instead of toys, and pass joints instead of balls.