you connected the freckles on my arms with your calligraphy pen like they were constellations and i was the night sky
your hand held my arms still as you inked them and i stopped breathing and started breathing faster at the same time my mind couldn't remind my head not to fall in love and my heart was beating in my arms right under your hand right under your pen
but the illusion shatters when you say, don't worry, i torment gwen like this all the time
and i wish it didn't because ap government is dismal there's too much reality in there and i just want to be wrapped up in the idea of you
but that's not fair so i just stare at the constellations you made of me and wish they meant something as i try to stop getting so dizzy around you
i tell myself it works
i think i need to like... "be in love" as a defence mechanism. which sounds weird, ik. it's probably abandonment issues or smth lol.
anyway, if this ******* keeps making me love her i'm going to break her kneecaps backwards <3
i realized in ap government. as you defended your argument with those sharp but elegant hand gestures you do.
you aren't even the most convincing speaker (you talk sososo fast) but i was convinced. i would do whatever you said.
i felt like i was submerged in warm water, everything moving to the rhythm of you. i couldn't even say a word to you for the rest of class; i was so dizzy. my head swirling with imaginary tales of what it would be like to love you.
but i look you in the eyes and the water gets cold. yours are brown, but they look at me just as empty as her blue ones did.
and i don't have another two years to spend loving someone more than they love me.
so i'll sit with you in ap government and get a little dizzy when you talk. i'll pretend it's because i didn't eat lunch.
simply put: i feel like people hate me. it's this paranoia that i can't talk about with people because they won't understand. they won't understand the way my lungs feel like they're on fire, and the way that my throat feels tight as though a noose is wrapped around it. they won't understand the way i try to stay as quiet as possible, try not to make a peep. try not to cough, try not to sigh, not a peep. i am good at keeping quiet even though i am full of words. i don't speak because nobody cares enough to listen anyway. i wouldn't want to waste anyone else's time. simply put: i wish i was happy. simply put: i don't want to be the failure kid anymore. simply put: please help me.
the Bible says that hell is like a fiery oven. i believe that the Bible is wrong.
hell is forgetting every single good moment you've ever had in your life and replacing it with every bad one. hell is never having a feeling for something at all. you can't see color. you can't smell. you can't feel. you lose touch with the things you once cherished.
hell is watching the people you love suffer. hell is being able to do absolutely nothing about it.
hell is feeling tired all the time, hell is looking at the bags under your eyes and saying, "today. today is the day i will sleep" and it never happening.
hell is anxiety. hell is the shaking of your hands, the bouncing of your leg, the biting of your lip until you can taste the twang of metal in your mouth.
hell is never being able to appease anyone. hell is never being able to appease yourself. hell is being known as the disappointment, the mistake, the never should have happened.
hell is the depression. the white of the mental hospital walls. the barred windows. the tears down your mother's face. hell is writing sorry on the suicide note that led you there in the first place.
hell is just not a fiery oven, hell is now, tomorrow, and every day after.
Hello Weakling You are nothing I won't discriminate I'm not fussy Anyone will do I will ravage your senses And destroy your mind Bit by painful bit I laugh in the face of your loved ones Mock your feeble attempts to evict me I will fool you I sleep dormant Then - I am reborn This time with more stamina I pick up the pace I will take you down before I disappear