I sink down in the tub, letting the water soak into my hair like a sponge. I like the warmth, it feels like the good hugs I ever got and the hugs I never will.

It's dizzying, being in there. I can't tell if it's from the steam still in the room or my head, but either way it makes me feel flushed.

Maybe the bath bomb I threw in the tub adds to it, the scent of rosemary filling my lungs. I don't even think I like rosemary but it doesn't matter.

My eyes start to droop, looking automatically towards the orange bottle left on the sink. It's empty now.

I read once that your body won't let you drown in your sleep, that as soon as your nose goes underwater you'll pop right up, maybe a bit scared, but completely alive. I have a feeling that only applies when the person falling asleep is natural, not from a previously full bottle that should have stayed full.

It's when my eyelids touch and my nose is barely above water I regret it. That even if I wanted to go, it wasn't like that.

Usually that horrifying realization would be the end of the story, the person just feels regret and the urge to go back, but they can't.

But today, this time, I was able to go back because in my struggling, I kicked the drain plug out of it's socket, and the water started to sink around me.

I could breathe. I could scream, so I screamed.

the water grabs my hands

and pulls me underneath it's large body

my lungs fill with salt and copper

it anchors around me

yanks me further in

is it falling if i am surrounded?

is it dying if i am held?

i must be simply floating down

until the waves spat me onto

the sand

i am no longer swaying in the sea. it no longer yearns for me

the world is gray and even though i like muted colors for myself i like the world outside to be plentiful in it's decoration. i miss the middle shade of green grass, the dark brown trees, the bright red chairs, the orange of the leaving sky. it is grey and it is killing me.

i am red, in my hair. i am red, in my constant blood shedding. my make up is black lining my eye, with pink and gold and glitter because i feel like it will make me be better. my shirt is purple with lacey white sleeves, that contrast with my black fish nets that snake up on legs, hidden under the deep dark blue of my shorts.

i miss the bright colors. i miss their warmth

to stop the snake from roaming in the garden

you have to cut off it's head

and it will no longer be a problem

when the weeds start to usurp the garden

you have the pull them out before the taint the plants

and your garden will be pure

but the snake's may keep coming and the weeds might keep growing

you may think you're safe because you nipped it in bud

but you don't actually know much.

you don't know what i have swimming under my skin

the smile plastered on is what you see, but you can't see my intentions

you see my nails with black nail polish but fail to see the blood underneath

i wonder if you're really this stupid

or maybe you don't want to see the chuck of flesh in my teeth

you must be blind to not see the red flag flown across the dead lawn

you want to get close because you don't see the venom in my bite

you want to grab my hand because you don't see the lives it's taken

you want to grasp my lips because you don't see the fangs behind them

you must be blind, so it's all your choice

Writing Fanfiction: I feel like that's a given, i've been writing fanfics since I was 9 or 10. Would be nice if I could write more original works tho

Baking: It's fun, and when I bring desserts back to college with me, my friends love me. Plus it's a good stress relief, and overall helpful skill

Changing my fashion style on a whim: some days I'm very goth, other days I'm wearing pastels, or just casual wear. I can't chose one style, and I won't try to.

Minimal exercise: I go on walks when it's warmer. that's it I think

Loving horror stuff, especially cannibal sub genre stuff: okay, i've always loved horror, and Hannibal (TV) changed my brain chemisty. If you want cannibal themed content (like games, movies or songs) i'm the one to ask. be warned, there is a chance it will be fruity

I know there's more, probably some more serious ones, but I don't feel like being serious with this. The years barely begun, so if I change, there's a lot of time still.

J,

I've known you for years, since elementary school. We didn't really start talking much until middle school, but we stopped talking when Covid happened, but started to pick up again junior year in high school. Now we're in college, and things have changed.

I've changed, maybe for better, maybe for worse. I can't tell. You've changed too, I think. I've noticed things.

I'm so fucking glad we don't go to the same university, and you can't see me everyday, because even though I think you're my friend, I think I hate you.

You text me every fucking day, sometimes saying you're concern, sometimes to send me random videos. Please, give a girl a goddamn break. When I give curt responses and you say "did I do something wrong?" I have to say no, because then I would be the bitch and maybe I would mess up a dynamic with someone I've known for over a decade.

You say cruel things sometimes, and you expect me to laugh them off.

I say I can't hang out with you because I'll be busy. You said to me "Busy with what, you never leave your house!" (you were shocked because I was pissed off, and I was because of your tone and implications. I have more friends than you)

"Your car is dirty, get it cleaned." Dude, it's winter. Everyone's car is covered in that dust.

"I'm glad you redyed your hair because it didn't look very good before" thanks. Real confidence.

Those were all within the last week.

I don't know if you have a crush on me, or if you just want to keep me close or what but I'm sick of it.

I'm pissed at you for other reasons too, but I don't think I can properly say them right now. I hate you, because you make me feel bad about myself. You kind of make me what to die.

I don't know if I even like being your friend anymore. I don't want to see you in February, when you planned to see me, but I'll accept it. Maybe I'll think this is me overreacting in a weeks times. Maybe I'll feel worse.

Don't respond to this or I'll want to gorge my eyes out,

"Melpomene"

when i tell people i'm apathetic, they'll say some shit like "no, I've seen you get angry, be happy, upset" and shit like that. That doesn't mean anything

when i say i'm apathetic, i mean that most days someone could come up and murder me and i don't really give a shit as long as the death is quick and my corpse doesn't look too fucked up

i mean it when i say i'm okay with dying because i know that people would miss me but i always think "i'm dead so it's not my fucking problem if they're sad"

i feel basically nothing when i see horrible things happen in the world because why expect something good to happen? if something good happens, it's a pleasant surprised, but if something awful happens, it's just another tuesday.

i was like this in high school too. i'm in college now, and i don't see the point in giving a real shit. people are those toys you have as children, because even if you're attached to some of them, they'll either break and get replaced or you'll get older and toss them somewhere you don't have to see them