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Tw Sh Destructive Behaviour - Blog Posts
If you have really fuckass scars when you cut over them the cut won’t close :,)
Realizing I haven’t went more than a few months without hurting myself since I was eleven.
Tw: sh
relapsed last night and WOWIE FEELS GREAT
haven’t had an outlet in a while
cut over some really bad scars and they BLEED
It's a bit weird but I find cuts attractive.
♡♡♡
oh to have a flat stomach, small ribcage, better shoulders, thin face, bigger eyes, longer eyelashes, cuter lips, no beauty marks, better nose, better hair, naturally big dark eyes, smaller feet, longer legs, longer hair and more cuts ! ! ! !
Got termed spent a few months off of tumblr binging, but I'm back and fatter than ever. I'm a minor so if that makes you uncomfortable then DNI. Ugw is 88lbs/39.9kg. Ed accounts please Interact!! 🤍
draft poem i wrote the other day about self harn and dealing with urges
TW under the cut: sh (burning)
I need it, I crave the pops of the flesh against the almost frozen heat, the metal kissing my skin as flames send that familiar smell to my face. I hunger for the sting of relief. Each time I pull my hand away from something warm that voice in my head says "stay"
Why is it that every single person that I open up to ghosts me within 2 months. I'm too much for anyone to handle. I'm not even surprised anymore. It happens with every single new relationship and I barely even care anymore. I wish I could just become a total bitch so everyone would be too scared to get close. This just fuels my desire to get as bad as possible and give people a good reason to leave.
filter: relapsing relapse
Putting this here in case Forest decides to spy what i have to say again
Do not do any of the stuff i talk about guys
a cut that always bleeds
I have not seen an uglier flag than this
i do °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
"how are you feeling today?" gives me war flashbacks.
Fractured Fury
The world stands still, the air goes thin,
A silent void erupts within.
A crack inside, so sharp, so deep,
A wound that wakes but does not weep.
Then fire strikes—my veins ignite,
A raging storm, no end in sight.
My breath is smoke, my voice a blade,
A fury born, a war replayed.
I scream, I shake, the earth must hear,
A beast unleashed, too wild to steer.
The walls may break, the sky may fall,
Yet still, my rage outlives them all.
Then silence creeps, so cold, so vast,
A fragile peace that will not last.
The ashes glow, the embers hide,
But fire still burns beneath my pride.
- a little poem about how i feel about narcissistic injury and narcissistic rage :)
A midnight breeze whispers, sudden and cold,
tracing her thighs, with fingers sharp and bold.
*trying to get help with something*
"weak, worthless, useless bitch"
*splits on myself*
i need to see blood.
The first touch felt like a cure,
chaos faded, the world seemed obscure.
Sorrow hushed, anger dissolved,
in a pool of blood, a flower evolved.