DEAF + DUMB + DONE
then -
now -
archives - notes -
dl
sixteen july
five : forty-seven p.m.
i want to spit. throw up every goddamn thing inside of me. breakfast. kidneys, heart, bile, cartilage, bones. i can feel them all pushing against my skin, they want out. i want it to pour on me in my fancy fucking party dress, high heels, why am i always the one begging.