He won’t cut his hair
Because his ears will get cold
And his eyes are dark brown
But they stare into my soul
He doesn't want to be close
Or give out hugs
But he’s always there
To check how I am
And I like this boy
And it’s ******* annoying
And I like this boy
With his drawing obsession
And his chat about a game
I have no clue about
Or an anime series
That I’ve never seen
And we joke about how
He’s so **** at maths
And he compliments my new hat
Because he knows I want one
But no one else has
And he's quick to defend me
Like I am for him
And we gel really well
But I wish we weren't friends
Being friends makes things awkward
So I'll ignore it instead
For a couple of years
Then remember and go
Oh **** yeah
**** I used to like that emo lookin kid
But he only looked like that
Because he refused to get his haircut
Because his ears would get cold

I can ******* harsh words
I know they're coming
I don't swallow them though

I can hear my insults
I feel sorry
I don't apologise

I can feel you're pain
I suffer too
See that's why I break you

I'm broken already
My edges sharp
So I cut yours easy enough

No one ever considered
Why I chose you
No one knew what you put me through

Big bad bully picks on you
That's *******
And you know it too

You were better at hiding
Stealthy and silent
Hidden from every one else

But you broke me
My edges sharp
And you blame me

But really you should have taken more care
Sanding and filing those edges smooth
Because leaving them sharp was begging

Just begging

For them to be used

Today the realisation hit
That even if I come out my life will still be ****
Because I’m not a ‘normal’ member of society
And I have to live with the ******* anxiety
That a lot of people don’t believe I even exist
Let alone deserve rights-I should cease and desist

The worst feeling is the one where it feels like I’m pretending
Like if I tried harder I’d be a normal human being
That if I was skinny or happy with my weight
I’d be a normal, unbothered, cis and straight
Even though that’s unrelated and completely
absurd

The second worst feeling is the imminent death
From hating myself so ******* much
When I’m literally ready to grab a kitchen knife
And remove my ******* from my body in a single swipe
When the need to bind is so strong that I no longer care if I can even ****** breathe
But I just need to remove the **** things from my body…

So I do and I break all the rules of binding ever and I last five and a half hours before “wimping out” because…



when you remove the deadly tape in fear of actually ceasing to live from the inability to breathe and wonder whether it was worth it because this morning it was a brilliant idea it felt so good and the pressure didn’t matter because the elation was so great but now your skin burns and your breath returns and a different weight settles on your chest:
the return of self hatred and the wish of a painful death

It's too loud
Too bright
Too fast

Too many people
Too much choice
Too much noise

Too many things to go wrong
Too many problems that can't be solved
Too many things to do

Not enough time
Not enough space
Not fast enough to compensate

Can't write it as quick as I think
Can't slow my thought down
Can't explain the inside of my brain

Can't explain
Can't explain
Can't explain

You tore me limb from limb
Like a flower dismantled petal by petal
And my blood leaks out like sap from a tree
Sticky and wet and you wash you’re hands clean
Of the deed you committed when you stole my heart
When you took my trust and ripped it apart
It wasn’t my trust in others but my trust in myself
My self esteem drained and left for dead
Constantly watching my words if fear
Of saying something else that could be perceived as unclear
My trust in my kindness
My loyalty
My help
Everything abandoned in the space of a month
You took everything from me
Including myself
I don’t know who I am anymore
Just a shell who can’t loose anyone else
But don’t worry
I’m fine
But you wouldn’t have worried anyway
Because all you ever cared about was you
Not a spare thought for me
Unless it was useful to you
But don’t worry
I’m fine

I don’t ******* know how to write anymore
Everything I write I hate Delete it word by word until it’s just a blank screen again Knowing everyone will hate it (anyone who reads it that is) before I even read it back I never used to edit, just type and click publish because it wasn’t important that what I wrote was perfect just that it was out there for someone to read. Now it’s different because everything has to be perfect. Perfection is a standard yall who know me know that I am constantly too desperate to achieve. And it never used to apply to writing-writing was ok, writing could be **** and everything was still ok but now it’s not and this is a mess I don’t ******* know this is on par with what I wrote still sat on the bathroom floor after doing whatever stupid thing I’d done this time but yeah. If you’re still following well done because I’m not sorry for ranting I do it a lot anyway yeah I can’t write anymore maybe I’ll see you again but probably not so peace out fuckups and depressed ***** like me don’t be offended just pass this and leave