hope for happiness and nothing more


I haven’t felt alright, for a really long time.

(Source: scntrx, via dillussional)

12:39 am

4. July 2014

for all the times you’ve been just escaped my sights and scrabbled just out of reach. When I lay wishing for that to change and you to be besides me, this is for you

Sick is more than just ill,
than the bile in my throat,
For its is the dark weight deep inside,
which slams down from within,

No medication will help,
streams of dry tears,
heart aches insistent pain,
What comes next are my fears,

For disappointment’s unjust,-
tearing ruthless through flesh,
The worst kind of wound,
invisible as it is bled.

Yet you hold yourself together,
with bare needle and thread,
bloody mess smeared around,
and lay dead whilst it mends.

One day, maybe you’ll be there to mend my stitches for me.