Belle / 18 / England
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  • "I understand you’re trying to help, but really I’ll still be by myself,
    I hold my breath and slowly count to ten.
    I let the weight keep sinking in.
    And I know you wouldn’t want to bring me down,
    but it’s the tarmac and the walls in these towns they seem to scream ‘do you remember when?’
    as I stumble over the cracks of what could have been."
    belle

    (Source: susanna-k4ysen)

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  • I used to love time, the idea that I had this expansive road out in front of me that I could take anywhere I wanted. I walk that road now and I’m weary and my feet are aching. I look ahead at this eternity stretching before me and it makes my shoulders sink because of just how many seconds I have left to fill. I question what each of those allotted digits, seconds and minutes, will contain. I know that maybe one day the fractions of 24 that I spend saturated in negativity will decrease, but now I feel like I’m dragging myself through the mud and making no progress whatsoever. 

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