It isn’t fair anymore
You get the fun of wanting to be alive
You get the pleasure of living
You’re not trapped
Why do you get that right?
Why wasn’t I allowed that too?
Did I do something wrong?
I was just a baby
I want to do something to make it up
Something to show I deserve it just like you
It just isn’t fair anymore
You get that joy of not being stuck
I can’t see
It’s too dark
Explain to me how that’s fair
Why does everyone get that but me
The food passes by
But what’s the point
Why do I need to prove myself?
Show how much I need this
I don’t want anything
It’s a right
Not a privilege
Can I stay with you?
There’s enough room for me too
I’m tired
When I sleep it’s okay
But I can’t sleep all the time

I pull up grass and feel guilty about it
I know it’s not bad.
So why can’t I stop?
The blade just keeps looking up at me
“Why did you do it again?”
“It hurts”

There’s scars on the yard from the last times
It’s fine.
I’ll water it when I feel better
So why can’t I stop?
The silver just keeps looking at me
“Why’d you do it again?”
“It hurt”

I pull up the grass and feel guilty about cuts
The lawn will grow back
I cover up my arms and legs
The ground is barren and mowed to dirt
So why can’t I stop?
The blade stares
“Again?”
“…”

My love,

I missed you,
The way you held me and caressed.
Distracted me from all else
and kept me safe from my fears.

You traced my body like I was a sculptor
That you just had to make perfect.
I wanted so badly to be perfect.

I didn't mind fitting in the cusp of your hand, edge of your blade.
But they say you chipped away at me, make me smaller.

Isn't that what sculptors do?

...

They took you away from me, my love, I'm sorry.

But as I let go,
I was able to rebuild what you broke.

It was never you who broke me though, was it?
It was me, really, allowing you to do so.
And just as I am enabled destruction, I am able to recover.

My scars heal,
But still they remind me of you.
I miss you, so much so that sometimes I go back,
But I now know that I am more than your rigid sculpture,

I am the ever-changing product of my own acts of creation.

everything has been okay
everyone has been kind
so why is it that i find comfort in hurting myself

my family is great
i have wonderful friends
in fact the only thing disrupting my life is me
but it’s all fine at the end of the day

but why is it that
here and there and then again
that i find myself wishing an end

an end not to the happiness
but me

I don’t want to be the one who knew and didn't say anything.
It hurts
I don't want to be the one who has to tell all our friends
Because it hurts
I don't want to mark a date on the calendar or visit your grave on every birthday you have
Because. it. Hurts.
I Do Not want to listen to a song we once shared and cry instead of you sitting next to me and singing along
It ******* hurts
I don't want to sit at your grave for hours on end because you're not here in person
It hurts
I don't want to call a stone my bestfriend because you are so much more.
God it would hurt.
I don't want to watch your family cry, i don't want to tell your girlfriend and watch her break down
It hurts
I don't want to think back on memories and cry when we could be making new ones…
I love you and i know you're upset
And it hurts
I know I'm being selfish but this time I won't apologize because it's what I needed to do to keep you alive.
And god that hurts..

Today i found out that
My brother is turning into me.
Every single detail.
I'm scared for him.

I cant ever find the right words to say.
If it's about love, depression, anything
No words
Sometimes no feelings
How do I express how I feel?
How do I show them how much they mean to me?
Why am I like this?
A messed up person
Cant go with given name
Cant go with the right gender
Wrong pronouns
Wrong hairstyle
Wrong clothes
"Be more feminine" they say
"Grow your hair out"
But it doesn't feel right
Then there's the other people
Do what you want
What feels right
Everything will get better
"You didn't **** up. It's ok. It's part of the process"
The words my sibling says when I relapse
The words that I'm starting to believe every time I sh
Its ok.
Itll get better
People love you for who you are
Just around some people
You have to fake