May. 07, 2017
You broke up with me May 04. Star Wars day. That must have some significance. My mental health is deteriorating day by day. I want to kill myself. I haven't self harmed, not physically, not where you can see. My lungs are burning from all the smoke I've inhaled of all the fires I've built to keep you warm. But I'm still cold. I'm not hungry. My mom has noticed that I've stopped eating things. My professors ask if I'm alright. I'm not. I'm an empty shell. I'm so depressed and you left in the middle of my biggest one, I plunged headfirst into a deeper one. I feel like it's taken over my soul. I don't sing pretty songs, i cry and no longer sleep. I can barely get out of bed.
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