just want something to soften the edges of my distress
A day of thinking of being touched and not wanting to be touched Saturday A day
I'm not a monster I am a monster
YES THAT IS MY OBSESSION
Any fucker who says it’s artistic and temperament of artist can fuck right off Mentally illness sucks
Garden of ugh
keep thinking I should do something but nah
silently screaming and contorting myself into awful shapes
I only want your vision Not some useless other idea of you
Big soft pig cushion
just want something to soften the edges of my distress
nothing happened though i have to recover like something did
Need my monk prison death sentence haircut back
Just a git
No drama Except the shit I have in my head
I hate myself But all my demons are my own
My only talent is for dreamless sleep As we dig deeper into The hated months
To own desired objects
Me I’ll overthink myself into 500 years of doubt and self murder
Far far away In non-artist land
It's dark and quiet and nothing can hurt me now The day demons are dead
all the beauty I’m not and the intimacy I’m not having It’s a full time job
My corner shop only sells cancer and concrete
I've been avoiding doctors So I'm unmediated