I’ve kept the taz devils cooped up in my head, sealed up and locked away to scratch and pick at the inside of my skull, my soul. I’ll tuck them into their familiar bed, just for you. I’m not hiding. I’m not playing pretend. I’m trapping them where they should have stayed all along. Who wants to play with someone else’s poisons, anyways?
I have stayed home all day, which has resulted in me being reminded of exactly why I don’t do this…
I need to remind mother that I need to go to the doctor.
Dustin texted me today. Wants to see me soon.
I want to live in a doll house in Axel’s backyard, and have boys sneak in through my balcony at night. I can wash away my wrong-doings in my claw foot tub.
Honestly, I feel like shit. I am depressed. I am empty.
I think I’ll buy a tattoo gun soon.
You can’t let me take care of myself.
That’s when everything creeps back because I know I can’t do anything.
What am I supposed to do if it’s just me?
- Me: So did you talk to Phil about the truck?
- Mom: We can't afford it. We'll finance one at Musky Auto.
- Me: Ok.
- Me: Do you think I'll have a car by the time I get my license?
- Mom: Depends on when biking season starts.
- Me: ... *thinking inside "You never plan ahead for anything do you? Do you never think to save for things? Do you realize what you're doing to me?" Mh.