I hate you.
I hate what you did.
I hate that I trusted you.
I hate you because you took that trust and broke it.

I hate you because you took my childhood away far too soon.
I hate you because you stole my innocence without a second thought.

I hate that we share DNA.
I hate you because we share the same scars—on our skin and in our souls.
I hate you because we both sit in dark holes that were dug before we were born.

I hate you because we have the same problems, the same broken mind we inherited from Dad—
But you were weaker.
I would rather burn alive, with my own hair as kindling,
Than do what you did.

I hate you because now that you're older,
You look just like Dad—same face, same smile.
I hate the fact you can still smile, knowing what you did to me.

I hate you because I still mourn what we could’ve been.
I hate you because you made me what I am now.

I hate you
Because you used to be my older brother—
But now you’re just a man.
And I used to love you.

I want to get better.
I want THIS to go away.
I want to let it go.
But what if THIS is me?
Am I prepared to let go of the only me I’ve ever known?

What if it is me, and I am it?
What if it’s all I am and all I’ll ever be?
What if I’m nothing if I get “better”

Is it ever going to be over?
This feeling of never-ending constriction,
That I’m never going to leave this numbness,
So full of feelings I’d much rather ignore.

Will I ever escape the hole inside my mind?
A hole in a universe spinning around the same thoughts,
******* in pain into the nothingness that is me.

I’m suffocating. But I’m the one holding the pillow over my face.

i hate when i look in the mirror
i hate when i open my mouth
i hate when i think and i cant seem to stop
i hate when i act like myself
i hate when i disappoint you again and again
i hate that i feel so incurable and i hate that its hurting you to

Once upon a day quite boring.
As I wondered, Weak and hungry.
I studied the fridge full and waxing, bursting with the pure love of man.
While i looked, nearly clapping,
Spotting the ribs upon their racking.
Glazed and glistening, gently stacking—heaven’s feast at my command.
Ribs so tender, richly stacking—heaven’s feast at my command.

I’m afraid you don’t feel the same.
I’m afraid no one does.
I’m afraid I’m keeping people from being their best.
I’m afraid I’m holding them back.
I’m afraid that I’m one of the weights on their shoulders.
I’m afraid if I follow through, I won’t be letting them free.
I’m afraid that I’ll just be letting go of something worth keeping.
I’m afraid that my life is worth living, and I’m wasting it.

They say it’ll get better soon,
That someday I’ll feel ok again,
And I just need to wait it out.    
So I’ll believe them.
So if I die still in this hole of hurt
At least I’ll have died hoping
That there was a light at the end of
The tunnel.