Coeb

To some people, it’s called breathing. To me, it’s called inhaling poison, Which drenches my lungs and sinks into my bones And melts into my mind. To some people, it’s called anxiety. To me, it’s called an unbearable shakiness in my soul The nervousness preventing my from ever escaping This disease in my heart. To some people, it’s called living. To me, it’s called never being able to run away. Never being able to truly go, truly leave. To me, it’s called being caught in a nightmare, While struggling to dream. Chasing a mystery with no solution. Escaping your own sanity to reach more sanity, Freei

    Today, you are beautiful.            Your parents tell you that you’re beautiful on every other day, too, but no one else ever does. The only time you matter to the world is at your shows. When you’re not beautiful, you’re nothing.              Today, though, you are shining. At least, you think you are, but you’re not feeling great. Your stomach hurts, just like it does before every pageant. Your dress is brand new, and you haven’t gotten used to the way it itches yet. You’re sure your wig is gorgeous, even though the hairspray smells bad.      Your teeth, though, are hurting the most. You know you

A/N: Just a quick note- the language in this story will be simplistic and sometimes repetitive due to Tino's mental condition. Also, it might be good to imagine him speaking with pauses between phrases. It'll make for a better image. :) Please enjoy! "Tino," the dark-haired man directed my attention back to the language cards in front of us- cards I could read if only my mind worked properly. Nothing worked properly- not after the explosion. I smiled to myself. I liked the dark-haired man. I'd always liked physics. And I liked explosions. If a railroad track ran from Helsinki to the Soviet Union, I had no trouble with blowing it up when

Strange sounds on sleepless nights Silver bells, tolling bright Sing me something sad and slow Slip into the undertow Seeing sights that are not there Seeing sunlight everywhere Silent sleeper, not a peep Surely, I just need some sleep

we inhale the romanticism of hooded cemetery kids smoking cigarettes pretending they are not dead. you were always so sure about my uncertainty, you watched all my pick up lines drop things into open graves meant for us. your eyes always wandered down thoughtful leaf-strewn paths. i wanted to ask you if i could follow but i came alone this time i remember our innocence in the static b e t w e e n stars, think about how youth without you is th- awing out the lines in my whittled-out eyes i look to the hooded cemetery kids, wonder what we'd have been like if we grew up as nothings, like them. teenage nothings with chiseled marble in our vo

Wishing to disappear never to existed in their mind no reason to cheer this is why I was designed there's a cloud over me and its raining knives all smiles are faked no one hears his cry's as he sits there shivers and shakes doesn't even try to reach out because there's nothing there only my own numb stare no desire to fight the devils wrenches would anyone notice if I could disappear because Im starting to  feel warm in these trenches would they even shed a tear? Sick of the acting let me compost with the dirt live????..... ill think Ill be passing lets make sure this hurts still wishing to disappear lets seal this coffin with a drop of b

Have you ever seen stars? No, literally, have you ever hit your head so hard that for just a moment flashes of bright white light would dance behind your eyelids? Little sparks that don't burn your eyes, despite looking like they might It's actually a pretty intense moment In a single split second that feels like an eternity, your brain conjures up these magical little lights Your head might hurt But the image is rather beautiful <3