tw// language. self hate.

do something, do something, do something
*******, waste of space
what are you even doing with your life?

please please just get up
i'll leave you alone if you do something
anything

brush your teeth, please, you smell like death

do something, do something, do something
******* just get up

fourteen missing assignments, and that's just one class
you dumb ******* i hate you

get up
you're the reason for every bad thing that has ever happened

y'know what?
don't do anything
sit there
you're gonna mess up anything you try anyway

are you going to cry now?
of course not. that's doing something.

don't go to sleep

your lungs could collapse right now
you could die
no one promised you forever
you only get a now
and you're spending it on your twin sized bed
might as well be in a coffin
you ******* waste of decomposable matter

do something, do something, do something

the space between listening and hearing,
that's where you'll find my hiding place;

where i go when the words get too fast
and the sounds get too loud

the mirror sits on the edge of the desk
shining with anticipation
for the day
i find my first wrinkle

mirrors, more than most things, know
that youth is fleeting:
skin does not stay tight
eyes become hollowed out like melons

but mirrors, like most, have a fatal flaw:
they hope too far

i pray they don't weep
when i'm buried
before i find my first wrinkle

carbon and gasoline
drowning the world in black

that's okay, i was in the mood for a swim anyway

i say every smoke
is the last one
because it's fun to pretend

but i'm starving for another
and i can't even make believe that it'll be my last

my skin is under my fingernails, now
a daisy caught in my throat
maple syrup dripping from my eyes
bloodshot heart from reading your texts past midnight

i'm not sure if you love me
even though you wrote the words all over my neck