envelope words

it's the last thing i would've wanted him to say. don't ever say anything is pretty ever again.
you tell me you're working on words but if that's possible, how are you so far? do you understand i'm falling apart, crushed? NO. you couldn't. every letter a suicide note why do i bother? every dark patch bristling card calling me. i feel like i'm going so much crazier than everyone else -- of course we all are, so why? we're all running ragged on our fears and insecurities and stress of every kind. all i want to do forever is cry and creak and die and cry but i can't ever.
i was trying to think of the response i would want. i could only think of the one i wouldn't: this was that one. this was the one that killed me. i can't do this. there's nothing to change that could fix it. i just have to move on and find someone who can begin to understand. is there a person like that? is there anyone, anywhere for me? why am i so far? what can i do to find my place? i feel so sad and stupid for asking but there's nothing to cry and nowhere to go and i need to take care of everyone, i need them all to stay and live and love and make everything good, i know they can make it. i try to make them see all their good and find each other. if only we could really build it.... i wish i could believe. all i see is the razors in the drawer + the stains on the floor.