• i wanted this out of my life, so its going up here. 6th October, btw I want out. Out of this life This emotion This school This family This responsibility This body. Fuck it all. I don’t need it. I want oblivion. I want to be back on that hill. Staring at the stars. So small, I’m of no consequence. That is my oblivion. And my tiger arms. I want them. I miss the feeling of cutting, cutting, cutting, 50, 60, 70 cuts a night, all at once. The ache the next day. That they burn when the weather gets cold. I can feel them, phantom cuts. I need my tiger stripes. With them, I’ll be beautiful. With them, I’d be able to cope. I’d be invincible. And dear Mr Delivery Guy. Could I please order a boyfriend to go? Who’ll listen on the phone while I cry. Who’ll hold me till I fall asleep. Who’ll come on adventures when the need arises. Who won’t mind if I kiss other people just because. Who’ll buy me pretty things from antique shops. Who will talk to me, and make me laugh, and hold my hand, and paint my room. Who doesn’t mind the brokenness. We could go on dates to Ikea, lie on my hill at night, do it at the skatepark, borrow old movies and watch them all in a row. Do you have one? Those guys, who make the world seem a brighter place when you’re with them? Or can I put my name down? I’ll pay layby. When one comes in, please let me know. I’ll be waiting.

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