Far past midnight, I take steps with shadows who bring me closer to the light (you know you're depressing when you dream up the fact you have friends)

They let me go—all of them—without giving me a proper goodbye.

Women Warrior. Aka the experience of high school in the midwest.

Like a lazy son of a bitch.

Abusers are Humans too.

The girl is witty and broken and just like me. (Sorry bout the bad pics, I was lazy and didn't wanna add decent ones lmao)

Half-baked poem about my stationary.

Grunge aesthetics ahahaha bad poem read pls thanks ahaha.

Things I want to do when I see the blonde girl crying in the corner.

CW for mentions of abuse. Spoiler alert, not all doctors are healers.