Might Be Part Of Something Larger.
Might be part of something larger.
TW: depression, self-harm, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, blood
Red. Red was a beautiful color. It wasn't her favorite color but there was something enchanting about it. The way it flowed down her arm into the sink, taking her pain and memories with it. She couldn't tear her eyes away even if those people were screaming at her. Red. Down her arm. Red. Down the sink. Red red red. Down the drain. It was the only time she felt okay. Though she had to do it often since the feelings didn't last long. The relief, the comfort she felt in her skin for once, how she finally loved herself in those moments, it was all too short. She needed more red. Enough to last longer. To last the rest of her life. It was the only way she'd ever be okay.
More Posts from Phdinpessimism and Others
TW: poor mental health, self-harm
Help Me:
Can you help me feel comfortable in my skin and keep the demons from getting in?
Can you help me silence the voices when I'm going deaf from all the noises?
Can you help me keep my hands away from my itch though all I want to do is tear my skin off when I scritch?
Can you help me steady my breathing if the choking air gets too seizing?
Can you help me save myself from drowning in my negativity before your place in my life starts uncrowning?
Someday I'll learn how to draw feet:
Based on this keychain:
Some old poems of mine (4):
TW: depression, mental & emotional abuse
Mornings:
What I dread the most about mornings,
is waking up.
Waking up to a new day of pain,
of anguish,
of a never-ending cycle
that tears me apart.
Waking up to a family
that isn't family,
and being beaten
until I wish it would all end.
The worst part about mornings,
is having to stop dreaming.
Some relatively old sketches of mine:
Some old poems of mine (3):
Screaming:
He won't stop screaming
I can't stop scratching
Day after day after day after day
He keeps screaming
I keep bleeding
Day after day after day after day
He still screams
I still scratch
It never ends
He never stops
It won't stop he won't stop
So my heart stops instead
Some old poems of mine (7) & (8):
I was...very sleep deprived when I wrote these and wanted to try my hand at a different style. They're still wips.
Warnings: crack, incomplete
Zombie dog:
Zombie dog goes out to play.
He's hoping people don't get in his way.
He's not looking to bite anyone.
He's out to roam and have fun.
Being a zombie can be quite boring.
The humans can't play because they're busy mourning.
And when he tries to bite his favorite bouncy ball,
sometimes he loses his jaw.
There's nothing to do during the day;
the squirrels have all gone away.
It's no better at night;
people always give him such a fright.
Bat & Cat:
Bat and cat are the best of friends;
they do everything together.
Even when they have to make amends;
they're still birds of a feather.
But bat has a secret
and cat has one too.
They both do their best to keep it.
What would they do if the other one knew?
Bat is a vampire.
Cat is a werecat.
The hardest thing to do, is be a digimon fan outside of Asia.
Main Blog: (Mostly) a place for my artistic hobbies and worksSideblog is https://connoisseurofcozycorners.tumblr.com/
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