what can i exactly say that you don't know? maybe you hear, maybe you don't.

i hate how they all think they know where i stand, what i want, what i'm running from. but they don't. how could they?... i don't even know myself.

sometimes i don't want to go home. partly because i don't really have one but also 'cause home is where mummy cries and throws up, papa get angry, won't let me go, moans and grumps. home is where they sneak extra butter into my food and where the bathroom is that i use to throw up in. home has blood stained clothes hidden in drawers and packets and pills, razers and claws.

i took an overdose last week, ended up transfered to general hospital from the psych unit. 

the big hospital took me in and swallowed me up, filled me with lines antidotes and various injections. as i sat shaking and throwing up the pills i'd taken i swore i'd never do it again. but now... now i'm not so sure. i want to, i need to. but, but, but.

please don't tell me i can do this. please don't fib and say it's gonna be okay. i think we know there is no fairytale ending.

i love you all. 

x xx

p.s. thank you so much for the award charr :) xo