Ouch
It's so **** painful

I don't know what to do
With the pain

I don't know what to do
With the knowledge that I did it to myself

My thumbs bleeding
Throbbing as if my heart was right in there
Yelling at me
Judging me for what I did

The worst part
Is the next time I'll see a bump
I'll just do it all over again
Until it scars my heart and my body forever

I feel guilty
But I know it's mostly his fault
I got it from him
He gave it to me
I know he doesn't notice
Or worse
He doesn't care how he impacts me

But all I can feel now is
Ouch
Outside and in

bicchiere
è una cosa strana
se fa troppo caldo
si scioglierà
ma se lo lasci cadere
si romperà in un milione di pezzi
proprio come il mio cuore
quando hai detto
"non dovremmo più essere amici,
sei semplicemente un peccato.".
il mio cuore è caduto
e distrutto
è diventato acuto
arrabbiato
triste
amaro
confuso
depresso
nervoso
psicotico
­vetro
è una cosa molto strana
ma lo capisco
forse un po' troppo

i dont know
if im going through a depressive episode
a suicidal episode
a dissociative episode
a derealization episode
a depersonalization episode
a psychotic episode
a sociopathic episode
or something else
but something is definitely wrong

They say to live in the moment
Which I admit
Usually is a good thing to do
But for a second now
I want to live in the past
So I can feel like
Everything has worked out
(And this time not for you)
And so I can appreciate how much better things are now
Big- like how we don't live together anymore
And small- How all the plates finally match
Both are good enough

And then I can return to the present
With a more pleasant
Point of view

I feel like I am falling
And floating
At the same time
I look down on my hands
And they look like a strangers
I speak
And an unfamiliar voice escapes
I look in a mirror
That's not me

The streetlights turn on
Grayscale
And yellow
And humming
At the same time
People walk by
Their voices muffled
And blended
And tossed around

I'm not real
But they are
They aren't real
But I am
What is happening

The world is going to fast
But standing still
At the same time

My eye twitches
But these eyes aren't mine
I am watching myself
As if I'm a character in a movie
I watch my eye twitch

Who is in the mirror?
It's not me
Just a ghost
A spirit who never got to exist

The lights flicker
In a pitch dark room
The silence
Is so loud
It pierces my ears
I shriek
In a voice
That never was mine
And never will be
I really hope this isn't real

Dear Faby,

If you are reading this
I am very mad at you
You promised
You wouldn't look for me on here
I showed you some of my poetry
But all that I was willing to share
The rest is too personal
For your ears

I love you
My dear friend
But please don't continue reading
It's an invasion of my privacy

I code my message to fit his rhyme
'cause I savor the moment in which he twists his mind
his heart in my hands
devoured into time
I prosper in the sands of the hourglass

Why do I not want to tell them?

...

The last time I told them about something that was so important to me was when I came out to them as nonbinary.
I thought they were at least slightly accepting, she had had a gay friend after all, and they had never shown any obvious transphobia.
(Its funny how, after I came out, the bigotry became a lot more prevalent).

And so, I went to my grandma's kitchen, sat on the floor, in a corner, and typed out
"I am nonbinary"
in our group chat.
My thumb hovered over send for what seemed like an eternity
until, finally,
I pressed send.
And then I started to cry.

They had texted back "okay" and "what does that mean" but I didn't respond. I couldn't respond.
When she picked me up a few hours later, we talked.
Well, she talked.

She told me how I'm just confused
and how theres only two genders giving me some ****** up biology lesson about it, using the terms "gender" and "***" interchangeably.
and how society had just manipulating me to be this way
and how it was a sin against God
and how I don't get a choice in this
and how I'm a
beautiful girl
and I didn't have to be insecure about it.

I was
broken
by these words.
I cried that night.
I cried
           and cried
because I realized that
they would never accept me.
They would never love me.

I think I
                attempted
to
                                  ­              **** myself
that night.

I don't remember, exactly
There were so many attempts that I just
can't remember
anymore.

...

Why do I not want to tell them?

Because
I'm scared.
I don't want to be ridiculed and criticized.
I don't want to break my own heart again.
I don't want to be rejected again.
I don't trust them anymore.

I don't want to tell them, because they lost my
trust.