Bigdelusionbeliever - A Soul

I feel so weird for sharing this one but i felt that I don't want to keep it

Easily I rot there like an empty shell holding onto memories true or false...fantasy or reality.

It doesn't matter

I will keep bringing them back with all I've got I'm not sure if it's good because I used to call them traps... traps I know so well. It's fake, but I believe in it like it's some sort of savior for me. But when its effect doesn't work anymore and it's all over, it feels like a knife in your heart, cutting you and leaving a bunch of scars that need to be healed.

I don't have any magical power to heal them instantly. I just draw it in my place again, trying to feel something...a holy circle rot in my place for days feeling nothing but the taste of lose. Then I just cut it all...feeling fooled by my own head like a dummy. Then again, thinking about the fool I am when I opened up to him. I trusted him, gave him all of my feelings, spitting it all out. I told him to keep the pity for himself he needs it, not me. I opened up to him only because I thought he was good enough to find a solution.

But all I heard was that I needed therapy. Don't you know that you were my therapy? Not anymore. You disappeared like all of them, and I hope I just disappear and go somewhere I belong. I always told you I am not human because I never felt like one. I can't get along with them including you especially you.

You're the bitchiness covered with sweetness. Just by staring at you I feel disgusted. I was there for you whenever a bitch broke your heart, walking dead, insecure like an ugly kid on you. But when it's my turn to be the sad ugly kid you throw it away and it just makes me question myself where are you now?

My little paradise isn’t warm anymore

I feel like a cold corpse after years of dreaming too much too hard. I don’t want anything anymore I don’t even think I deserve anything. I used to dream of a happy home, but now I realize all I really need is to be happy with myself.

Life feels too heavy I’m tired of pretending, of forcing a smile like everything’s fine. Faking happiness is harder than any wound I could leave on my skin.

I know I don’t belong here this place, this life this version of me.

I sit with my head in my hands crying through the night, not even sure what I’m crying for. I can’t fix this I don’t even know what I want, but I know exactly what I need.

A friend. Someone real. But instead, I feel like an empty shell trapped in my own body lost in my own mind. It’s overwhelming.

So I build illusions, create distractions, trick myself into feeling okay. I set traps knowing I’ll fall into them just to feel something real.

Music helps. Just a little. A few notes a melody to hold onto. Do-re-mi, chords and rhythms keeping my thoughts in place, slowing the breakdown... making it quieter. More peaceful. But deep down, I know I’m only buying time.

I hold my phone

My thoughts are too loud

I want to scream.

I just want someone to hear me.

Me too me too🙏🏿

That's so me dudr

I’m leaving, but not without the pieces of the pictures, the echoes, the ghosts of what never was. That’s me in the end standing there, arms open, waiting. Always waiting. Embrace me. Hold me. Just once… just enough to feel like I mattered.

I reached for you, over and over, pushing past the impossible, believing maybe—just maybe—you’d finally see me. But is impossible ever enough? No. It never is. And I’ve learned that the hard way.

Don’t blame me for stopping. I was never strong enough to keep chasing something that was never mine. I gave up, not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice. I left, not because I stopped loving you, but because loving you was breaking me.

I never had a chance, did I? I told you ‘Love me or leave me.’ And every time… you chose to leave.

I never thought I’d hate you, and even now, I’m not sure I really can. But the guilt of feeling this way eats at me. Am I the bad one here? Why does it have to be me? Do you even care that I love you? It hurts to hear other people’s love stories—why can’t I have that? I’ve loved you from the very beginning, but did you ever feel the same? Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t.

All I know is that I love you and hate you at the same time. Looking at you feels like self-destruction—I’m the skin, and you’re the blade. Are you hurting me to satisfy me, or just to ruin me? It doesn’t matter; I’m already broken. My mind won’t stop calling me a bad person. Maybe I’ve made mistakes, but I was just naïve. Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I was just lost, trying to figure everything out, and now I can’t make sense of anything.

I hate myself for loving you, but hating you hurts even more. In the end, this is your fault. A ruined heart is better than a ruined body, and that’s why I still care about myself—even if I don’t care about you anymore. You’re my mistake now. My mistake for looking back, for loving back, for hating back.

I hope they get it

say rape. not grape, not 🍇, say rape. it might be uncomfortable to say, but that's okay. rape isn't supposed to be comfortable. by taking away the weight and emotion around the word, we're watering down the horrible act. making it more digestible.

"but I have to say grape so I can stay monetised" then don't talk about rape. if you're telling someones story solely for the money, you don't deserve to be telling their story.

rape is a horrible, disgusting, act that SHOULD feel uncomfortable to hear about. but something feeling uncomfortable shouldn't mean that we should censor ourselves. let it be uncomfortable to hear, but keep listening anyways.