hello wonderful people! xx | my name's olivia! | she/her | 14 | INFP-T| "I shall take the heart. For brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world." — "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," 1900 |
hello wonderful people! xx | my name's olivia! | she/her | 14 | INFP-T| "I shall take the heart. For brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world." — "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," 1900 |
(I don't usually do this, but this time I'd like to put a disclaimer of sorts. I do not personally struggle with schizophrenia, so if I've written anything that comes across as ignorant, malicious, or misinformed, please correct me. It is in no way my intention, and I admire and appreciate you all very much... I'd also like to note that this is a jumble of words coming straight from my brain, with...
The Rabbit wants me dead. I know this from the wire scars that burn into the back of my neck, angry and itchy. I keep seeing his long ears, tufts of snow white fur. His heart ripped out with a knife. His heart ripped out with a knife. Ripped out with a knife. Blade hot and sticky and bloody.
Itchy-my neck was terribly itchy. My skin felt like the bars to a prison cell and my soul was the prisone...
i took my Faber-Castell oil pastels and pulled
out the wine red coloured chalk
scratching an angel outline on the asphalt
around the flaking raccoon skin on the
side of the road.
the muddy tire tracks painted his furry dead
body squished into the gravel like a canvas smeared
with organs, flipped inside out for all to see.
melted charcoal black eyes, suffocated
me, until my puls...
pressure
metal edge pressing into my skin
my blood is like a currency
ten cuts pays off the shame
my veins are a gold mine
i want to dig until i see my bone
pinch the pad of my thumb
watch it drip down
and pull out a bandaid
red strings cut cross my arms
my wrists
my legs
tying thread
one stitch, two stitches
one cut, two cuts
bloody stains in between my fingernails
pepper coals stinging my...
She was dead.
Hatter was hiccuping as tears poured down his face, cradling her chopped up body in his wrinkly arms. The hatchet was tossed to the side, blood still hot, sticking on the silver blade. I fumbled with the tea vial desperately, trying to do something, _anything, _that would fix this. But it was hopeless. It was all hopeless.
I was never getting out of here.
Never.
And now Isabella’s ...
my apple pie is burning
in the oven
the golden butter is seeping
into the dough
the folds of the crust
move like waves
in the heat
and as i pull it out with my maple
dotted mittens
and tug at the sleeves
of my wool woven sweater
i can feel the bubbling warmth
envelop my hands and face
and can't help but think that
later
when the chilly air bites my fingers
reminding me of the blanket of winter
an...
i am a scarecrow.
stuff me with straw 'till i gouge out my pinpricked eyes
and vomit up my insides.
use your needle and sew my fraying lips together
because i can't breathe.
place me in a pumpkin patch and scream in surprise
when i lie dead on your wooden stick.
watch as i tear at my own hands
picking and picking and picking.
can't you hear the cawing of the inky monsters
pecking at me?
why...
And the man
with the noose
tied 'round his head,
the man with the letter
at the end of his bed,
the man with raw smiles
on his wrists
he said:
Sever my bone, the sinew
rip apart my flesh
graciously, God has promised
my last breath
This disfigured and bloody hindrance
inside my chest
has finally beat itself
to death...
The Queen glared down at us from her ruby throne.
"Your Grace, we... We didn’t mean to upset you," Isabella started, her voice trembling.
Wordlessly, the Queen clapped, sending a harsh ring throughout the crystalline hall. A knight, silver armor tainted with red paint, cautiously set a tray with sharp metal objects and an empty wine glass down on a cushion beside her.
We watched in shock as ...