humans love
to put labels on things
for example

someone is sad
they are emo

someone is mentally ill
they are crazy

someone is smart
they are a nerd

someone is strong
they are a ****

someone is small
they are too weak

someone is big
they are too fat

someone is traumatized
"they are just being dramatic"

labels
they really do hurt

glass
is a weird thing
if it gets too hot
it'll melt
but if you drop it
it'll break into a million pieces
just like my heart
when you said
"we shouldn't be friends anymore,
you are just too much of a ******.".
my heart fell
and shattered
became sharp
angry
sad
bitter
confused
depressed
nervous
psychotic
glass­
is a very weird thing
but i understand it
maybe a little too much

innocence
from when i was young
trusting
mentally stable
and what some queers may call
"an egg".

innocence
from before we were friends
when i was treated right
kindly
and what some may call
"not like ****".

innocence
from when things felt real
all the time
i could hear things right
i could see
no confusion
or as some may call it
"i wasn't insane".

i miss my innocence
because now
i need it more than ever

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

My grandma thinks I'm a tomboy
Her words, not mine
My ex best friend thinks I'm a liar
Her words, not mine
My mom thinks I'm a faker
Her words, not mine
One of my bullies thinks I'm a fat pig
Her words, not mine
My "friend" thinks I'm annoying
Her words, not mine
My sister thinks I'm an *******
Her words, not mine

Man... the women in my life aren't the best, are they?

the thing about self harm
is that a lot of the time
it isn't a choice
because it's an addiction
a habit
a coping strategy
so next time you see someone
with cuts on their arms
take it from someone who was (and still am) bullied.
ask them if they are okay
don't judge like the others did
be their friend
and help them
because
as an addict myself
i can confirm
we need help
but we don't want it
we want to get better
but we don't
and i don't speak for everyone
but this is how i see it
it's not always a choice
not a decision
but a habit
and trust me
old habits die hard

there is knife
on the table
next to me
i'm home alone

988 wont help
neither will my parents
or my friends
or even my dog
they cant help

i'm crying
i need help
but i cant reach for my phone
or the knife
is this good?
or bad

to all my friends
who would never miss me
*******
but to you
my friend
i hope that you
can live a happy life
without me
without knives

so take this poem
as a gift
to keep going
to keep going strong
cause even if i am gone
you arent

the knife is in my hand
glancing at my wrist
i cant do it
but i have too
so goodbye
cruel world
i must go

but whats this?
a light?
i am still in fear
the knife trembling
blood- no
tears
dripping off the blade

and i collapse
and die inside
because nobody cares
but i cant force myself to leave
just like those toxic friends
relationships
people
thats just what life is

but you have to keep going
going and going and going
until you find a true purpose
because harming
or killing
yourself
just stops you from recognizing the problem
just avoiding it

so to anyone who wants-
who needs
to hurt, or **** themselves
just face the problem head on
even if you cant do it
even if you have tried before
it's still worth it