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i knew a girl who would pour bleach in her wounds because she liked the way it burned
92false hope and empty promises
93things have been better since i've killed myself
74the day you left, i slept in a meadow of dead flowers; hoping to be devoured by it
65gwyn, how your sunlight has turned to cinder
56when your house burned down, you smelled like charred woods for months; i loved it
57burial ground atop a decaying mire
58i go to bed thinking about you fucking him
49you worship storms while i mourn the dead
310i knew a girl who would pour bleach in her wounds
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