put away.

picked up

and tossed out

the door

bags in hand

that look of pure

concern that spread


her face like a

piercing knife

to the chest

it was my choice

but I can’t

help the feeling

of loss.


journal 6.

looking back on it, it is disappointing to realize how sad I have always been. can someone please help me? just something, anything, please one thing that will make me smile. even if it’s just a little bit. a teeny weeny bit? please, anyone. hello? oh fuck it you’re crazy you’re just talking to yourself anyway.

(please understand that these really are journal entries. these are things I write to myself personally. they usually shouldn’t be shared but I like when people understand people. it helps us understand ourselves. sharing our personal thoughts are one way of doing that. understanding.)