the urges are coming back
the urge to skip breakfast
to skip lunch
the urge to work out until dizzy
and lightheaded
the thoughts are getting strong
the thoughts about my weight
about my size
i wish i was never like this
but awful parents that were vocal about their and others weight gives you a complex
oh that poor seven year old me calling theirself fat

Spiteful, yes that is what I am
You think a diagnosis can wash away your sins
But you made me feel worthless and fat
You can try to spin the tale around
But you and I know what truly happened
Your rough heart cut me deep
I’m still bleeding to this day
I drown in my tears from the agony you gave me
Yet you pretend it never happened
You ignore my pain and brush it off
The facade of trying to connect with me crumbled
I see now what your true intentions were
To show that you spend time with all your kids
But I won’t forget the screaming and beatings
It seems worse that you did the abuse sober
No alcohol to make you violent
It was truly you
You can’t blame your diagnosis

you emailed me
it was in my spam
i deleted it without reading it
part of me yearns to know what it said
to feel your arms wrapped around me
but my heart seems to forget how angry and dangerous those hands could be
it wants to feel his warm lips against mine
but seems to forget the lies and manipulation that oozed from them
why do i do this to myself
i don't deserve to be treated like that
i was viewed as something to be owned and dominated and used
not cared for or loved or protected
he pretended to care
but he just wanted my body
i need to drill that into my head so i don't end up with him again
he isn't the one
he is emotionally violent
verbally violent
physically violent
he is not to be trusted or let in again
i will not repeat my mistakes

what is love
how does someone
open themselves to love another
I don't know if my heart
can handle anymore
vulnerability
how does one love healthily
I only know how to idolize someone
to think they can do no wrong
that they're perfect
I'd do anything for them
then to hatred in the blink of an eye
everything they do is wrong
they're the same as trash
I don't want to see them ever again
why do I switch between
idolize, hatred, idolize, hatred
so on and so forth
until one day
I feel nothing towards them
I don't hate them
but I don't idolize/"love" them
I think I must be broken
if I cannot love
or even know what love is

I wish I was in love
and to have them love me back
I wish I could send them "good morning" and "good night" texts
I wish I could spam them with videos
I wish I could hold their hands
I wish I could hug them, kiss them, laugh with them
I wish I wasn't so lonely
I'm always told that I need to love myself before I can truly love someone
but how can I love all my rough edges and sharp thorns
how can I love someone like me
I can love others
I don't see their flaws or if I do, it makes them perfectly imperfect
I see all my flaws and shortcomings
I can love the whole world if need be
but I don't leave any for me
I don't feel myself worthy of love
But I wish I was in love
I could love them
and cherish them
I wish they would love me
and cherish me
and accept that I am not a girl
it sounds like a fantasy
it seems nothing like the harsh reality
the harsh reality of loneliness and abandonment and heartbreak and transphobia

I wish I could've been a kid
a happy kid, a normal kid
a kid who was loved
not a kid who knew which parent was coming and if they were in a bad mood by their footsteps
a kid who played with toys
a kid who didn't slave away taking care of the house and their siblings
I wish my childhood were an actual childhood
I wish I didn't have to worry about getting beat
or screamed at
or not allowed to eat dinner
or made to swallow dish soap
I wish my unhealthy relationships weren't normal to me
I wish I knew what a healthy relationship looked like
I wish I didn't endure what I endured
it was too much for a little kid to carry
and it's too much for me to carry now

I slashed at my thighs
with an anger buried deep inside
no one heard my silent cries
tears blurred my vision
so I wiped them away
and picked up the blade
I use my body as a canvas
and paint an image prettier than me
with my blood
it tells a tale of sorrow and woe
where the child knew nothing of love
so lost and alone
the blade was a comfort
the scars a reminder
a reminder of when life gets tough
and everyone leaves
you'll always have me
since 11 years old I've cut
cut my arms
cut my thighs
see the blood, look now you feel high
higher than depression can reach
now you're sad
let's do it again

I wear long sleeves in the summertime
I spend my days unsticking my pants from my thighs
I must admit I relish the sting when the water hits
the shower brings pain from my self-inflicted cuts
I see beauty when the blade digs in and the blood drips down my wrists and thighs
I hope these scars last an eternity

exhaustion settles into my bones as my screams turn into silence
the darkness comes and goes in waves as I continue my descent in the downward spiral
oh how I wish that my scars would open up and start bleeding
the ocean drags me down into the deep abyss
the agony seeps under my skin and permeates how I see the world
my sickness is one that can never me cure

Invalidated day after day
“She” “her” “girlfriend”
Replayed in my head
Never silencing the wrong pronouns that people say
They love me but why can’t they call me something other than a girl

Wishing they’ll change
“They” “them” “he” “him” “boyfriend”
Anything other than “girl” would make me happy
Would satisfy that little boy inside me aching to be called for what he is

Second biggest insecurity? My chest
Why?
It makes me feel like a girl and I don't want to feel like that
I hate how the way I dress or do my makeup makes me look female
It’s like nothing I do matters for people to think I'm a boy
Sure a select few respect my pronouns
But it's not many

I feel so alone and isolated with my dysphoria
No one I know can understand my struggle
I just wish I had a flat chest and a masculine face
Then I could get away with wearing makeup without looking like a female

Sometimes I want to plead with god why he made me hate myself so
I didn't ask for this
This constant battle of wanting to cut my chest just so it can feel the way I feel when I see them
It hurts deep inside to see this ugly body being portrayed as a woman
I want to be a boy
Nothing people say can make me hate my body less

I look in the mirror at myself and I want to cry
This isn’t how I should be physically
I hate it
No matter what gender I feel day to day, I can never please myself
I grow my hair out so I can look a little feminine
But then I chop it off so I can look masculine
One side will be happy for a short period then it will be angry again

I just want to be content when I see myself
Why must I be like this
Dysphoria is a demon I fight daily
But I never win
It had grown too strong over the years

you know something i think about often
i don't have a personality
i just mimic others
the people i interact with
i mirror their personality
i mirror their texting language
i mirror the phrases or terms they use
i mirror their body language
i mirror their actions
their beliefs
their interests
their jokes
i mirror them
until i am just a patchwork personality of a million others that aren't mine
but you can't tell me to be myself when there isn't a self to be
I'm an empty shell, a husk of a person
there's nothing inside my heart
i have no personality
there is no me to be
and no matter how hard i search inside of me
there is nothing to be found
i am nothing
i am empty
i have no personality
i can't be myself when there is no self to be
who am i if nothing but everyone around me

do you ever feel so suicidal that you feel it in your body
my heart is shaky and pounding
my stomach is churning
my skin feels hot
my eyes are damp
my mind is racing and storming
i can't think coherently
except about…
“i really want to die”
“i don't want to be alive anymore”
“maybe this time it won't be an attempt but suicide”
“i can't do this anymore”
“let me die let me die please if there's a god out there let me die let me die **** me please”
“I'm so weak and pathetic”
“my whole life I've been abused and assaulted it haunts me”
“I'm suffering with every breath I take and every heartbeat it's shoved into my ******* face laughing that I'm still alive”
“I'm such a failure I can't even **** myself so pathetic 12 suicide attempts”

day after day after day
I push myself to work harder
to complete more assignments
to push myself past my limits
why do I do this to myself

day after day after day
I skip breakfast
and lunch
and sometimes dinner
but my body makes me eat a snack
why do I do this to myself

day after day after day
the cuts and the burns cover my body
giving me new scars
and new pain
my secret outlet for all my unspoken pain
why do I do this to myself

when i tried to **** myself that night
something in my brain broke
i wasn't the same anymore
usually after a black and white episode
i can feel love for that person/people again
but when i woke up in the hospital after that attempt
that love was gone
i used to be able to feel love for some people and all animals
now i can't love humans anymore
i feel even less empathy for humans now than i did before
i can barely care about my friends
how can i care about anyone else
my heart is shriveled up and dead
it doesn't work anymore

I'm in an underground labyrinth searching for the exit my whole life
everything seems like I took a wrong turn leading me deeper into the darkness
if I see light
how do I know if it's just a flashlight or a trick
or the sun the taste of freedom or liberation
do I follow the light and feed into the potentially false hope
and let me fall into despair once again
or do I even want to escape anymore
this labyrinth is all I know
what would I do with my life if I found the door leading me out
away from the horrors of my life
how would I even be able to adapt to this new life full of smiles and sunlight
maybe I'll stay here in my darkness
alone with my thoughts that torture me
yeah, it hurts but it's my normal
just like the scars on my arms
begging to be reopened
to have red spill down my wrists
to stain my sleeves
I can handle hoodies in the summer
If I've done it before
I can do it again
they all tell me to not do it again
but I don't want to listen to them
they say there are so many coping skills that will make you feel better
but those people haven't put a blade to their wrist and watched the blood trickle out
to feel the sting the adrenaline the pain
it's everything I need and want
don't take away something that actually helps me
I can swallow all these pills but that isn't gonna do anything good
if I hear “just be mindful” or “use mindfulness, it'll be the cure” one more time
I might scream until I go deaf and lose my voice
no one seems to listen to what I say
it's like I'm all alone in a crowded room no one sees me
they all look through me like I'm not even there
like I don't exist