Fists balled in the lunch room Music in my ear telling me to F it all Friends yelling their disappointment Rising rage and hate Don't tell me to eat Dont tell me what you think about my mental illnesses They are mine and you can't dictate them They control me Zoned out Punch her in the face Laugh at her on the floor 5'9 best friend on the floor by her 5'2 short *** friend Snapps in the face Wakes up Shes still yelling at me Just wishful thinking I didn't snap I wanna snap Im going to snap
It’s hard to be your own person, to move your singular body in its own direction, when every corner is already crowded by other thoughts. Your limbs brimming with self-loathing again, brilliant. Bubbles of spit boasting as they frame your thirsty lips. You’re picking blood-stained fingernails with yellowing teeth that never knew the curling cradle of a smile. At a loss for embrace, Fake hair plastered by stained sweat to your forehead. There, in the hollows of your forehead, permanent lines appear prematurely, paving the way for the end of your rabbit hole, spiraling. Head so full of heavy thoughts that your necks snaps.