As the feeling of dejection runs through my veins, through my brain, down to my feet. The sentiment of the empty, blank sadness I feel everytime I hurt someone with the wrath I usually suppress, the feeling of the tears bubbling up from my eyes, running down my cheeks as they smell like sorrow, and taste like the salty beach waves I crave to be washed away in. Hoping, everytime my emotions get ahead of me, I could control them, but I dont hate it, I wish I wasn’t so sensitive, I wish I didn’t dread getting up in the morning, I wish I was a better person
health3 felt this