Ugly Little Secrets
And with all these putrid black secrets, her light went out.

cigarettes and tea

and slices across my smooth arms

and a clenching fist in the pit of my stomach,

and tears in the school bathroom mirror.

this is how we live.

knees scraping against tile floors,

bloody cuticles, bitten nails, 

i want to vomit. 

i hate poetry and everything

about it 

everything fucking sucks. 

Dear M,

How can you love me? I’m the ugliest waste of space. If I were you, I would have chosen her in a heart beat. I would have done anything to get her back. 

But I guess you didn’t really have a choice. 

And now you’re stuck with me, because you’re too afraid to be alone. What was I? “All you had right now.” Ha.

A last resort. 

I hate everything.

I’m so stupid. And fat. Really fat. 

Dear Diary,

Sometimes I am filled with so much insecurity I want to plunge into a desolate, dark river and forget everyone. 

She is so pretty, diary. I am so ugly. She has the prettiest eyes and mine don’t even exist I just really hate myself a lot. 

I wish I had pale skin and wide eyes and perfect teeth. I am the ugliest human being in the entire world. I do not want to eat very much anymore. Or smile. Or laugh. 

I want to starve until I disappear. 

He doesn’t understand that I find myself absolutely heinous. He says I’m the most beautiful girl in the world. But he has to say that. 

I’m so fat and gross and ugly. 

Love,

who the fuck even knows


she isn’t a smoker, i watched a documentary about the photographer, this is her daughter and she always would take photos of her children and she thought of how out of place yet powerful the cigarette would look in her hands so she took this photo 

Dear Diary,

I am the worst kind of person. Lying here, with the blue right pouring onto my pale face, I am the worst kind of person. I fear I have no heart. 

Love,

Anastasia

m3zzaluna:

penguin and friend
a little girl hold a penguin’s flipper as they walk together at london zoo, may, 1937. photo by fox photos/getty images.
more similar here

Dear Diary,

I am happy. 

Love, 

Anastasia

Dear Diary,

I have once more found myself in a very cold and desolate place. I have no one else to blame but myself. My hands are numb and feel like the palms of a dead person’s. My eyes are red and swollen with tears that I have caused. I am my own problem and I hate me, I hate myself to such an extreme extent. I am far too unstable to be with anyone; far too ugly, far too selfish, far too dark and grey. 

That’s why I am sorry. I am so sorry I do this to him and I am so sorry he has to put up with this and I want him to realize it this time. I want him to realize nothing is worth having to deal with someone as worthless as I am.I don;t want to be the one to leave I want him to wake up and be hit the realization he is something and I am nothing and those things do not belong together. 

I am so sorry. 

I want to die very much so.

I do not want to be a burden, but either way, death or life, I am a burden. I wish I could simply evaporate into thin air without anyone’s notice, and some how their memories would be swept of me. 

And there would not be a single broken heart.

Not one single tear. 

Oh diary, I want to die. 

Love,

Cosette

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