I want to write about the people who keep leaving but I think they're right.
sometimes when I'm lying in bed my heartbeat shakes my whole body and it scares me because I'm alive, I have no God, he has forsaken me, you have a God, you're so happy, he loves you, he is your friend, I'm starting to think there's no such thing as love, I never want to let myself open up ever again but I know that I will I will fold into millionths an accumulate these creases in my edges like fucking paper air and keeping keep ripping I want to rip my stretchmarks open and bleed