i don’t think i’m the same.
what happened to that gifted girl?
she could sit and write for hours,
she used to like to press flowers.
i don’t think i’ll amount to much.
i don’t know why.
2 degrees promised before i turn 19-
they can’t deny the fact i’ve tried,
‘till I realized perfection was just
“justified” inspection.
maybe it’s just a smudge on my reflection.
outwardly successful,
internally deranged.
how do I explain
that i don’t desire my life to retain?
maybe i don’t deserve it.
maybe i was never meant for joy.
maybe i’m just meant to be the lesson
behind others’ introspection.
i don’t believe in love.
maybe i never did.
it’s always something i’ve questioned-
but here’s my ***** confessions:
i’ve never wanted to be in law,
or be forced away from his love and care.
i’m not yet over my past,
and i don’t want the scars that mark me to last.
the desire for darkness
screams louder and louder.
the blade no longer numbs the pain,
and blood is all i gain.
how many gashes tonight?
10,20,30?
maybe none at all…?
too late, I answered the call.
maybe i’m good for nothing
and just a waste of space.
maybe my desire to be free
is what hands the reaper my key.
im too tired of trying,
too tired of the nagging voices,
too tired of this fight-
yet alas, tonight is not my night.
death doesn’t scare me,
but it scares my lil sis.
i have no desire to appear shoddy
or for her to be the one to discover my body.
i refrain for now
because there are others above,
others to support and maintain-
so this desire i must contain.
i wish i could be that little girl again
and run to my holy father’s arms,
but the time is none,
and that time is long past gone.
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 5:16 AM UTC
i don’t think i’m the same.
what happened to that gifted girl?
she could sit and write for hours,
she used to like to press flowers.
i don’t think i’ll amount to much.
i don’t know why.
2 degrees promised before i turn 19-
they can’t deny the fact i’ve tried,
‘till I realized perfection was just
“justified” inspection.
maybe it’s just a smudge on my reflection.
outwardly successful,
internally deranged.
how do I explain
that i don’t desire my life to retain?
maybe i don’t deserve it.
maybe i was never meant for joy.
maybe i’m just meant to be the lesson
behind others’ introspection.
i don’t believe in love.
maybe i never did.
it’s always something i’ve questioned-
but here’s my ***** confessions:
i’ve never wanted to be in law,
or be forced away from his love and care.
i’m not yet over my past,
and i don’t want the scars that mark me to last.
the desire for darkness
screams louder and louder.
the blade no longer numbs the pain,
and blood is all i gain.
how many gashes tonight?
10,20,30?
maybe none at all…?
too late, I answered the call.
maybe i’m good for nothing
and just a waste of space.
maybe my desire to be free
is what hands the reaper my key.
im too tired of trying,
too tired of the nagging voices,
too tired of this fight-
yet alas, tonight is not my night.
death doesn’t scare me,
but it scares my lil sis.
i have no desire to appear shoddy
or for her to be the one to discover my body.
i refrain for now
because there are others above,
others to support and maintain-
so this desire i must contain.
i wish i could be that little girl again
and run to my holy father’s arms,
but the time is none,
and that time is long past gone.
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