_to exist_
when i want nothing but love of my own
for myself
some of it,
dedicated entirely to my being,
my skin, by all means
and i feel like this skin isn't mine
like a second layer
some days i dream of tearing it apart
and perhaps finding what i look like
within
is it any different from the other deformations?
do i have it smooth, baby-like, good enough, to be accepted?
had it been all natural,
nature-given, that way i'd have perhaps accepted
alas, knowing it's a play of the world onto me
and in my body,
my blood messing up everything it's meant to do for me
all because of the ones that were supposed to create antibodies
_there's this guttural scream that ensnares me whole_
where do i go
when i see them fight the demons outside and around
i can't even win the battles that i carry within me, all time round
and i'm on a war with myself
there's rage, there's ache, there's the pain
of when will i accept
i shall forever bargain
why do i even begin to heal if i have to go down the same place
down the same low
the lows hit lower
i see new symptoms, new symphonies of how it could and would
and it does—it gets worse again
and it's a cycle
healing, accept the white little ***** that carry the science of potential magic
put all my hopes, have them disintegrate
go back again
start at the beginning, new dose around—i'm healing
and then i come crashing down again
and it's the nights
and the mornings
that are the worst
both the times, when i should be at my best
i'm battling, wanting to hide and disappear
and wear a snake-like skin on myself
_i hate me_
and this hatred lives deep within like a monster that birthed itself
out of the normal, the ordinary that i have lacked
there are days where i pull at my roots
watch them fade
watch them fall
i cry and lose hope with every strand that couldn't stand tall
and it's like cemented on me
had it been scales on a snake, i'd have called it flashy
it's disgust that's piled in my eyes, against my being
i see the look on my face
the dead, the dead stares back every time i try to play pretend
and it whispers
it whispers, smirking in my ear
_this is what you get_
be normal?
oh i would do anything—exchange half my lifeline
if i could live through a healthy half of life
or whatever remains
i've tired myself out of it all anyway
there's bumps
and there's fractures
i feel like it's my own skin that peels
every time i grasp it
and it's visceral
too graphical, no gore however
makes me wonder
how it'd be—moments of softness
where i cherish just me
where who i am isn't my enemy
even just for a breath
i wish to write about that breath
but oh—
imagining is hard when there's nothing left for you to do
the ones living in delusions have thought and wondered if it could all come true
my case is different
so far, years upon years i've been hoping
but the last of this strength, the last drop in the vessel that was given
it might run out as soon as i stop breathing and moping
and i am perhaps the most devastating liar of all
you shall never see me burning myself to the ground
for i'll stand tall through it all
and in front of your lies, i'll deceive and speak my practiced lines
i'm alright, it is what it is—i'll be fine
_i won't be. i am not. i'm tired. give me some hope._
i might be a ***** for feelings
and i fear—i fear so loudly in a silence
call me a prostitute—love is what i want
hatred is all that i got
i have been hiding
and i've been running
and i sat in this adventure ride
never got back out of it
i'm scared
and i don't think i'll get out of this shell ever
so i imagine myself hiding
covered in multiple shells and armors
walls surrounding me, boundaries in the form of
words and my own scars—the ones that aren't even on the surface
protecting me, giving the silent comfort
that they are here, to carry me on, forward
and i've lied so much
i started believing my own lies
forgetting what was the truth
'cause it hurt so much
what do you do when you go down?
_where do you go when you are drowning?_
quiet is peaceful
quiet is welcoming
like i don't have to perform to exist in here, no
especially the dark
no one can see me
i can't see me
and that's just easy
to exist that way
been felt for, not seen on the surface
not just looked at, but heard
for your voice to find out of your own existence
there's voices in my head
that'll scare you more
what even is there to love
or like?
i see nothing
and on the surface
it's all to despise
show me if there's something
don't tell me it's the heart that's worth it
when you starve yourself for long enough
the void of hunger becomes like it's a normal
the new normal
starving myself of everything
to get used to it the best way
_the void_, though
continues to grow
i get these random bouts of feeling
such immense loneliness
makes me want to pull in the closest person
hug them tight
take all the warmth
squeeze out my life
i'm layers upon layers
of words and of stories
of people i've met, their memory
and of all who've given up before me
_girl in pieces_, i shall call myself
_would anyone even want me?_
Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 12:03 PM UTC
_to exist_
when i want nothing but love of my own
for myself
some of it,
dedicated entirely to my being,
my skin, by all means
and i feel like this skin isn't mine
like a second layer
some days i dream of tearing it apart
and perhaps finding what i look like
within
is it any different from the other deformations?
do i have it smooth, baby-like, good enough, to be accepted?
had it been all natural,
nature-given, that way i'd have perhaps accepted
alas, knowing it's a play of the world onto me
and in my body,
my blood messing up everything it's meant to do for me
all because of the ones that were supposed to create antibodies
_there's this guttural scream that ensnares me whole_
where do i go
when i see them fight the demons outside and around
i can't even win the battles that i carry within me, all time round
and i'm on a war with myself
there's rage, there's ache, there's the pain
of when will i accept
i shall forever bargain
why do i even begin to heal if i have to go down the same place
down the same low
the lows hit lower
i see new symptoms, new symphonies of how it could and would
and it does—it gets worse again
and it's a cycle
healing, accept the white little ***** that carry the science of potential magic
put all my hopes, have them disintegrate
go back again
start at the beginning, new dose around—i'm healing
and then i come crashing down again
and it's the nights
and the mornings
that are the worst
both the times, when i should be at my best
i'm battling, wanting to hide and disappear
and wear a snake-like skin on myself
_i hate me_
and this hatred lives deep within like a monster that birthed itself
out of the normal, the ordinary that i have lacked
there are days where i pull at my roots
watch them fade
watch them fall
i cry and lose hope with every strand that couldn't stand tall
and it's like cemented on me
had it been scales on a snake, i'd have called it flashy
it's disgust that's piled in my eyes, against my being
i see the look on my face
the dead, the dead stares back every time i try to play pretend
and it whispers
it whispers, smirking in my ear
_this is what you get_
be normal?
oh i would do anything—exchange half my lifeline
if i could live through a healthy half of life
or whatever remains
i've tired myself out of it all anyway
there's bumps
and there's fractures
i feel like it's my own skin that peels
every time i grasp it
and it's visceral
too graphical, no gore however
makes me wonder
how it'd be—moments of softness
where i cherish just me
where who i am isn't my enemy
even just for a breath
i wish to write about that breath
but oh—
imagining is hard when there's nothing left for you to do
the ones living in delusions have thought and wondered if it could all come true
my case is different
so far, years upon years i've been hoping
but the last of this strength, the last drop in the vessel that was given
it might run out as soon as i stop breathing and moping
and i am perhaps the most devastating liar of all
you shall never see me burning myself to the ground
for i'll stand tall through it all
and in front of your lies, i'll deceive and speak my practiced lines
i'm alright, it is what it is—i'll be fine
_i won't be. i am not. i'm tired. give me some hope._
i might be a ***** for feelings
and i fear—i fear so loudly in a silence
call me a prostitute—love is what i want
hatred is all that i got
i have been hiding
and i've been running
and i sat in this adventure ride
never got back out of it
i'm scared
and i don't think i'll get out of this shell ever
so i imagine myself hiding
covered in multiple shells and armors
walls surrounding me, boundaries in the form of
words and my own scars—the ones that aren't even on the surface
protecting me, giving the silent comfort
that they are here, to carry me on, forward
and i've lied so much
i started believing my own lies
forgetting what was the truth
'cause it hurt so much
what do you do when you go down?
_where do you go when you are drowning?_
quiet is peaceful
quiet is welcoming
like i don't have to perform to exist in here, no
especially the dark
no one can see me
i can't see me
and that's just easy
to exist that way
been felt for, not seen on the surface
not just looked at, but heard
for your voice to find out of your own existence
there's voices in my head
that'll scare you more
what even is there to love
or like?
i see nothing
and on the surface
it's all to despise
show me if there's something
don't tell me it's the heart that's worth it
when you starve yourself for long enough
the void of hunger becomes like it's a normal
the new normal
starving myself of everything
to get used to it the best way
_the void_, though
continues to grow
i get these random bouts of feeling
such immense loneliness
makes me want to pull in the closest person
hug them tight
take all the warmth
squeeze out my life
i'm layers upon layers
of words and of stories
of people i've met, their memory
and of all who've given up before me
_girl in pieces_, i shall call myself
_would anyone even want me?_
this one's a broken mix- like my thoughts and myself
also, i don't really want myself either
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