- me: whats your opinion on tampons
- little brother: they're little fuzzy sticks on strings
- me: then you are ultimately more mature than most boys
- little brother: why
- me: for some reason tampons are gross and taboo just cuz they go in a vagina
- little brother: well so does a penis and boys never stop talking about those
- little brother:
- me: that is a fantastic point
You don’t need
To try to
I don’t want you
To understand me.
Are the ones
Who have felt
As much Nothing
As I do.
It kills me
To know that
So many people
If you understand me
Then all I can say is
I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.
My therapist tapped her pen, and looked at me There was silence for a minute or two, because “No, I don’t.
with her chin in her hand, frustration filled the room.
“I think you enjoy being sad.”
there was a small conflict in my mind, no, I don’t
enjoy this sadness. Yet it’s the only time I feel
alive, because it’s the only god damn time I feel
something. When your bones feel so heavy and
every breath you take you feel like you’re breathing
just to die, and when you need to talk to yourself for a
good 30 minutes after you wake up just to get the
motivation to move, sometimes feeling something,
a cut on the wrist, a tear on your cheek, a cry in the
middle of the night, it means more. It means that you’re
actually alive, because most the time I feel like I’m dead,
I wish I was dead. Sadness means I’m not dead.
My therapist tapped her pen, and looked at me
There was silence for a minute or two, because
“No, I don’t.