"Isn’t it ironic that you get sad a lot but don’t even cry anymore. You just sit there with a lump in your throat and a blank stare because you’re so used to it."
"Sometimes,
I feel like ripping apart my skin,
and searching for a reason for why
I feel this empty.
Maybe my veins are tangled,
or something is lodged
in my ribcage.
Because it feels like
something inside of me is
missing or broken."
"I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week."