Woe, weird vent art be upon ye
Friends drop away like flies
Backed by a halo of knives
Dreams that were built on glass
Light a match in a room of gas
If you’re gonna stand there and waver
Why don’t you do everyone a favor
Sometimes I have this mental state where I feel like I’m not all held together in the head. Like my being will fall apart, like a stuffed toy without stitches. This state lets all these icky thoughts get out/in. Thoughts I know aren’t true but oh how they sting.
It’s not as bad as this drawing suggests but I sure wish it didn’t happen.
