Twenty Six.

You suck at being suicidal too.

That’s because I’m not..

Deafeming laughter filled my room. Wait no, it was only in my head. Not the really world, only my real world revolves around her. Her? It.

Laughter really is contagious, I find myself laughing along.

As I was saying, you are suicidal.

No I’m not.




I tried ignoring it, hoping it would leave. But some things are constant. Never things you’d want around forever, though.

Hey stop ignoring me.


I like attention. I like talking to you. You’re my only friend. And let’s be real, you pathetic cunt, I’m your only friend too.

I literally have a ton of friends.

Youre alone in your room sobbing, clutching a marker because you aren’t brace enough to just use a knife. Key word: alone. What friends?

I just don’t wanna-

Bother them? You wouldn’t yeah. Hanging out with you at school is burden enough.

Fuck off.

Can’t, I’m part of you sweetheart.

No you are not.

Yes I am.


2 thoughts on “Twenty Six.

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