and when we’d run into each other over the years we’d laugh about that night that we first met.

𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼 :

I've never felt more alone.
This pain I feel not just in my heart but deep down in my bones.
All I wanted is for you to see me,
Acknowledge me,
Act like you used to love me.
________________________________________________________________________________________

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲(𝗠𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁) : 

Do you ever get stuck in your reminiscing?
Get swept away in missing someone
Because on little thing reminded you of 
Them.
________________________________________________________________________________________

𝗢𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗼 :

Do you find yourself floating back to those moments 
when you  could never imagine that door to them ever being closed?
When unexpected memories creep in and mess up your thinking
How quickly you find yourself right back in your feelings?
Dreaming.
Of what was then.
Isn't now.
And will never be.
Again.
________________________________________________________________________________________

do you ever get stuck in your reminiscing?

and she understood

"what did it cost?" everything

Isn’t it crazy to think about

im seeing things alot more clearly now i wish things were different X Killswitch Lullaby by s4h4nd.8

The Only Problem with Solitude

i know things have been hard lately im sorry its been like that, you dont need to apologize

i know things have been hard lately im sorry its been like that..

You know when i got back from Afghanistan / Tiktok audio

mindtrap x i loved her more then anything

I feed on what’s left of me.
day after day.
it’s not hunger, not really.
more like… maintenance.
keeping the rot from falling apart too fast.

the demons
they don’t scream anymore.
they hum.
soft, constant,
like the sound behind silence.

I tell myself it’s discipline.
that I’m fighting.
that I’m becoming.
but I know what that smell is.
I know what it means when the mirror looks tired before I do.

sometimes I think the rot isn’t decay.
maybe it’s transformation.
maybe I’m not breaking, I’m… refining.
yeah.
refining.
that’s what I said last time, too.

there’s no redemption.
no release.
just the slow rot of trying again.
again.
again.

I forget what I wanted to fix.
I just remember the shape of the wound.
it’s familiar.
it’s home.

and I feed on what’s left of me,
day after day,
so the demons won’t starve.

two_o_three_no_more_me

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