In Between That Little Space Where The Notes Bend
Me: Maybe things will get better.
Self-Harm: lol I'll visit you tonight then
Depression: I'll make you sad.
Paranoia: I'll make you feel like none of your friends like you.
Anxiety: I'll give you a panic attack.
Trust: I'll disappear for a while.
Happiness: Come on bitch, I was just an illusion.
Scale: How can things be better when you're still fat?
Mirror: You're still ugly.
Mind: Come on. It won't get better. You know better than that.
Me: you're right...
Fuckin’ Bow Down!!!\m/

Fuckin’ Bow Down!!!\m/

Reblog this is if it is okay to come to you and just vent my heart out, cry to you, yell to you, or just chat with you. We are all in need of somebody to talk to.