she has bolts
lining her mouth
so she can't complain
about the taste
of the metal on her tongue,
her hips,
her waist⁠—
her eyes are glossed over
brown and blank
mom says they're beautiful
but they're faker than fake
but still
she'll sit up straight
while her gears
will shift around
they'll pierce the inside of her head
like all the bullets in her brain
maybe that's why she's so sick
maybe that's why she's so sick

;

If only my scars were on the surface of my body. Then maybe you’d understand the burden of pain I have held.

I know I know I know
Human emotions are simply complex;
I understand but can’t control them.
Every second is different
I’m in the middle of polar opposite
thoughts and emotions.
I’m happy;
I want to be dead.
Bipolar milliseconds
are draining my core.