if you could feel how my stomach twists, would you love me back as well?
if you want me to be happy so bad, if you really care about me, then just kiss me! kiss me now!!!
to my beloved,
my beloved if only i could kidnap you
keep you safe locked up in my room forever
you no longer would speak to them
those people you call friends
they dont care about you
my love you are mine and only mine
i will carve my name in your skin
mark you forever
i will one day<333
from,
your darling<3
“this reminded me of you” is one of the sweetest things someone can tell you. you’re in their thoughts frequently enough for them to see pieces of you in a song they listened to or a book they read or even in the character of a show they’re watching
Being called pet 🤝 Being called doll
The need to be dependant
and looked after
i wish he would be my doll ♥︎ only care about me, only think about me, only want me. every choice he makes should be made with me in mind. he should ask for my help at any indecision. he should need me.
That bpd thing where it’s so painful to plan an outing by yourself because you don’t feel you exist unless another human is there to witness and validate
i want your attention, your admiration, your love! i want to be adored!!
i could have gotten better sooner if i was treated like a person instead of a chore. i could have gotten better sooner if i wasn’t abused like an object. i could have gotten better sooner if i was allowed to be myself without being made to feel like my identity was an attack or burden to endure. i could have gotten better sooner if i had been taken seriously when i was younger and could have asked for help. i could have gotten better sooner if my limitations weren’t treated as weaknesses/laziness and forced to push past them, further damaging my abilities and capacity. i could have gotten better sooner if i didn’t have ableist parents. i could have gotten better sooner if i wasn’t abused by people who preyed on my groomed mind. i could have gotten better sooner if there was more information taught about my conditions and they weren’t monsterously stigmatised. i could have gotten better sooner if being trans wasn’t a problem to be dealt with and tolerated and being gay wasn’t something that needed fixing, by force, persuasion or guilt. i could have gotten better sooner if love was enough. i could have gotten better sooner if abusers didn’t take advantage of my dissociative states or compassion.
i wouldn’t need to get better if i wasn’t so brutally mentally abused by the age of 4 that it set my life up to be unliveable. for me to be unlovable. for me to be unworthy and ruined. for me to be dirty. for me to be gross. i was set up to fail from the very start. before i even had a chance to have good memories. before i had a chance to grow i was crushed under the body of a man five times my size. i’m told i can get better? from what? my whole life? and get better for what? more life like this? i don’t want it. i just want to be fucking done.