kittyb4e:

inkskinned:

you’re so good at making others feel good. always there when they need you. excellent for a joke or prepared with the right kind of distraction. good at listening. an arm to hold on to.

and you tell yourself it’s just that you’re trying to be a good person, but maybe it’s that you feel good for a second only when you make other people feel good. so you do things like go to their parties you won’t dance at and make them pies you won’t eat and kiss people you don’t love and drink things you don’t want and tell them advice you won’t follow and laugh, always.

and that makes you feel like a bad person, because sometimes when you’re sitting there, and they’re raw and spreading, you wonder why they don’t see your blood too

and gosh, isn’t it selfish when you open your mouth and say the truth: nobody wants that from you. everybody just wants you to listen. and be good. and swallow the knuckles off your pointer fingers and wrap yourself in muslin and follow the river into the deepest parts of the ocean. 

you’re so good at making others feel good. there’s always a better rug but you’ll lie down for them anyway. there’s always a better highway but you’re already driving. and who cares that you need help. who cares if you’re dying. it’s all you, and you’re all good, and it’s okay, because you can floor the gas and people will just think you’re unafraid of dying.

but you are unafraid of dying.

inkskinned:

oh. is there a word for what it feels like, watching someone you loved dearly, even if only as a friend, watching them just… go. like not pack their bags, not leave in a huff, just slowly drift off with their more exciting people, forgetting to speak to you, forgetting your birthday, forgetting they said they loved you too. is there a word for the way the beetles come live in your bones during that. how you feel stuck, stuck like the universe is expanding just to get away from you, like this massively important person never saw anything important in you