chloe-deviant

i was waiting for the fallout and told you to hide in the bunker, locked behind the bedroom door because i was a catastrophe, a blinding light of disaster,  And didn't I warn you to stay away; Why won't you listen? There may be flowers in my hair, but they're ashes in my hands and i destroy everything i touch  And this is why I don't hold you when you cry 'cuz it only makes it worse and leaves the gash in your side with the aftertaste of rot from where i tried to kiss away the pain.  And try as i might, I can't fix you, so please stop asking me. there's still dirt under my fingernails from the time i tried to plant a garden, but only

one: that boy taught me that girls who speak up are not fit for loving. that bastard taught me that girls who say no are not fit for loving; it was my voice or my heart, and i chose love. (after all, isn't that the greatest thing?) two. when the pain weighted my body to the floor, when the carpet covered me with dust and claimed my bones, my friends called me lazy. "where are your wounds?" i cupped my glued-up heart in my hands. they rolled their eyes and turned away, asked me why i'd turn myself into some craft project for a hopeless, wandering boy and night after night i cried "i don't know, i don't know, i don't know." three:

When I was nine and my brother was seven, our dad and his girlfriend took us to the fairground. I had only met dad’s girlfriend a few times before. Her name was Ursula, and I wished she did look like Ursula the sea witch. Really, she looked as though she had stepped right out of a magazine. When Ursula saw us, her red lips stretched really wide to show her perfect white teeth, but her eyes didn’t smile. My brother didn’t seem to notice. He chatted away to both of them about his favourite rides, but I didn't want to look up at her face after that. When my dad went to get change from a machine, I sat next to Ursula on the ben

I didn't know I had depression until I turned around one day and found someone else in the same boat. It had never occurred to me that you could have depression and not know it and after sitting down with myself and having a good long think I came to the awful realization that it's been ten years. Ten. Years. Ten years of being incapable of feeling the entire breadth of human emotion; only degrees of anger I couldn't control or understand, knowing that I was behaving completely irrationally and being unable to stop, driving away family and the precious few friends that had managed to find me and could no longer hang on to the maelstrom I had

Sticks "There isn't any left for you." And stones "What are you doing here? We don't want you here." May break "Your so emo! Why don't you just go in a corner and cut yourself?" My bones "You're so ugly! No one would go out with someone like you!" But names "You're so fat! I'm surprised you can still walk!" will never "You're so useless! Why don't you just die! No one will care anyway!" hurt me....

1. I am sixteen, suddenly. I have grown up without anyone telling me. My car keys rest heavily in my palm. Each new college I hear about rests heavily on my shoulders. I am not sure how much longer I can take this, all this extra weight of responsibilities, of choices, of the future I’m not sure I want to have. My skin feels stretched across my body in places that don’t really make sense. I still feel too big in every bad way—I’m afraid I always will. 2. My first boyfriend tells me he thinks I must have bits of the universe inside of me. I try not to get offended: I know he means to say that kissing me is like kissin