I Feel My Time Is Running Out

being chronically on tumblr is so embarrassing because i look like a crazed stalker liking peoples posts 1 millisecond after it was posted

please stop looking at me like that, i promise i’m still human even if i have to cut my own flesh just so i can feel like one. please, please, please, don’t look at me like i’m a monster

always left behind, how am i supposed to keep going?

I just want someone who can’t get enough of me. Someone who will find out my perfume brand to spray it on a pillow when they can't have me beside them. Someone who will make a shrine of my pictures, of the things they collect of me. Is that too much to ask?

I actually cannot stand it here anymore

manipulate me until im unable to live without you. be my medicine. be my air. be my water. be my food. be everything i need and more.

how can somebody love the disgusting thing i have become?