real; the unscabbed scars on my knuckles and arms remind me of rough trees and the grimy surface of soil stomped on, you compare them to wildflowers but i know that this is only because you are the type of person to enter a restaurant with a sign that reads caution and order something anyway, simply because you are too nice and hate to think of businesses shutting down and of people failing, maybe this is why you love me, i still have not figured it out yet
real; walking into school makes me feel like a deflated balloon and everyone that says hello to me is blowing me up again with methane i am slowly becoming too big to be tied down with a ribbon called responsibility and fear, the anxiety that enters my mind when i am forced to stand in front of strangers with judgemental eyes and fake smiles becomes mind numbingly painful and it makes me question whether or not i am still alive. i still have not figured out why i am yet.
real; your smile lights up the lights on the lamposts by the train station where we met it transforms phantoms into people paper planes into reality and nightmares into dreams your touch leaves nothing but good intentions and blissful hope and it leaves my cold unbeating heart yearning for warmth. i still have not figured out if i like it or not.
not real; you love me. you kiss my wrist because you care about me not what i went through. you love talking to me, you wonder about how stars could ever die because you think i am a walking sun. you keep your promises and tell me that you care every night. i'm a good person. i have aspirations. those pills on my bedside are not mine. the mirror is shaking. i never meant to hurt myself. i'm sorry for all the things i've done. i have potential to be better. i am beautiful. not real not real not ******* real