I lost too much today. Murderers I loved. They just got away, with my gratitude list. I’m grateful for psych meds, or else I’d lose myself, if I haven’t found myself in everyone I’ve lost.
I pricked my wounds in a crazy house to desperately prove they could trust me. Everyone’s in disbelief because I’m crazy, but we shouldn’t trust each other.
All along I was unsafe. I should sleep open-eyed when I care about someone, till my mind suffers again.