i want to
s c r a t c h m y s k i n o f f
peel it off my body
in a desperate attempt
to set free the
self-hatred and anxiety
i want to
t a k e a k n i f e t o m y f a t
carving it away
shaping my body
that won't disgust me
i want to
s t a r t o v e r
take an unforgiving blade
to the girl i used to be
run away until my lungs burst
and i'm finally set free
I’ve begun to hate the whole ‘I contain multitudes’ idea.
I hate every breath I have taken since I was twelve, I hate how I’ll never be okay with who I am, and I hate how this concept of containing multitudes means there’s more about myself that I will uncover and hate, again.
I hate how your curtains are chrome yellow, I hate how it spills sunlight on the scattered prints on your bedsheets that I’ve come to hate. I hate how my feet are either too cold outside, or too hot under the blanket, I hate how my neck both desires and dislikes pillows. I hate how I am never comfortable with comfort: I hate how your fingers pressing between my shoulder blades don’t relax me. I hate that I can only love if I hold it up against all that I hate.
I hate how I lie with your arm beneath my head and my mind just above it, thinking of all the things that I hate and how I never hated you. I hate how I write about you, how I hide it from you. I hate how I never said these things to you. I hate how I hate myself but never hesitate to glorify you.
I hate how I say things to make you despise me, how I twist your words to despise you, how I set us on fire and wanted you to save just me.
How delusional of me to want to worship every inch of your skin with my lips. How delusional of me to want to be divine and not lowly, to love and not to ravage.
How delusional of me to love when I can only hate.
the people around me,
i’ve seen them shedding skin like it’s so natural, so human;
as if growing was as simple as breathing,
as if your reflection was never supposed to show you
struggling to stay inside your body
as if you didn’t belong inside of you.
as if you could grow with your body,
unlike the bones i wore on my exterior.
maybe that’s why, of late, i haven’t been feeling human at all.
maybe that’s why growing feels so much more
like breaking this exoskeleton that refuses to acquiesce,
refuses to let me get out of this unscathed.
it leaves me ravenous and pathetic.
my skin wanting to consume Your flesh was no act of romance,
but a denial of who i am.
this calling, this crepuscular craving of identity
caves its way into my conscience.
for i have words that come by every some time,
knocking, begging to be let in,
but there’s no keyhole in my door and the knob lost its will so long ago.
moments past the gloam,
a nocturnal sacrifice,
i moult until the shards of dawn cut away
at the failure of synthesizing a decorous skeleton,
at the loathing that follows the inadequacy of my individuality,
at the wounds of dissension,
and i am left
asphyxiated, bleeding, catatonic,
with the grief of old bones broken, just like the new will break again
I’ll hurt you,
and then I’ll hurt you again.
I’ll give you a thousand reasons
why you’re not worthy.
I’ll list a million ways
in which they’re better than you.
When you go to sleep,
that you’ll fail to accomplish
whatever endeavor you go for.
And when you wake up,
I’ll wrap you into the robe of self-pity.
I’ll give you some food for thought
that you won’t be able to chew.
I’ll help you get paranoid
over the smallest things.
I’ll always be there to remind you
of the mistakes that you’ve made in the past
and I’ll make sure that you feel the blame
that is going to last.
I’ll hurt you,
and then I’ll hurt you again,
so that when he hurts you
you know how to cope.
You're hurting me
& I can't take the 3rd degree
burns much longer.
Please don't ponder more guilt
This tilt you've made up
is hard enough to flip off
& you make me never want to wake up!
I'm tired & you know
& if it's demons in my head
chasing for a new home
you won't like my mental throne
too prone to failure
& if you won't go
Shut The Fuck Up
& Leave Me Alone!
has the pain ever been so bad,
you just do not know how to put it into words?
like a fire.
i can't extinguish it with any water, no matter the amount.
1 gallon, 12 gallons, 132 gallons, 1,089.
i should check if these cans are filled with gasoline.
or maybe it's like an abusive relationship
when your partner is so mean to you and it makes you go home at night and sob, and wail, and ferociously curse and wave your fist at the air.
yet somehow, you can't say "i don't want to be with you anymore"
and when your friend asks you where that bruise is from you'll probably just tell them you hit yourself on something.
is this because the pain is comforting?
is it because you've been here for so long?
is it because you don't know anything without the tears, the gut wrenching pulls and pushes at your psyche, the sinking stomach, the migraines from crying so much?
because when you have a moment of happiness you can't stay in that and then the pain has open arms and whispers to you, "welcome home."
pain is home.
pain has always been home.
a life without pain is not something you know of and no matter how awful, how miserable, how atrocious you feel, pain is when you belong.
"welcome home" whispers pain.
glad to be back.
I understand, you hate me
So know the feeling is mutual
Because when I wish for you to silence
Your ideas become delusional.
Fuck you & your intrusions
The truth is
Suicide is your illusion
So spare me the confusion
Since every conclusion you reach
Treats me like a nuisance...
Fuck you! I like who I am & what I do,
Songs I write & hearts I've moved.
Stop replacing good emotion
With regretted locomotions
Old decisions have made me
Worst mistakes have shaped me
& one night stands have tamed me...