maybe it’s not about
what i’m trying to find
and it’s not about where i’m searching
i might just be a square peg
trying to fit myself
into a round hole

i’m not made for this world
the rotting brain in my head
whispers secrets to me daily
about how i’d be better off dead
and i don’t even hang on
because i want to
i do it because i am too afraid
that if i let go
i’ll be remembered for all the things
people think i am
when in reality,
no one should cry when i’m gone

the days keep getting harder
i try to laugh
because it’s the medicine
i have the easiest access to
but the fake smiles i paste to my face
can’t replace everything i’ve lost
and all that i’ve thrown away

my potential fades more and more
each day
and i keep getting wasted
so the feelings all fade
until the sun rises again
and the past is replaced
with more of the same

sometimes i like to say ****
solely to **** people off
and it often backfires
because they’re either too ignorant
to realize what i’m trying to say
or they just think i’m cute
and sweet
only to laugh it off
without thinking twice
“she can’t mean it that way,
she’s too nice”

i feel so alone
i always run hot
but i feel so cold
every time i think
i have found a friend
i still have to force myself
into a shape i don’t recognize
trying to shift my muscles
and my bones
in a way that fit the mold
so i can be stomached
by others
and seen
the way they want
to see me
in their eyes

it’s different with you
and that’s why this is so hard
because you’re so far
and even though we’ve never met
i feel like
i connect
with so much
of what you are
but the reality is
we may always be apart
i want to hold you in my heart

even if
i am always here
and you’re
always there
it takes a lot
to break through
the walls i am constantly
trying to build
and rebuild
and make me admit
how much i care

but i am glad
i’ve let you in
i hate
and love
how much
you make me grin

it’s
not
real

it can’t be
can it?

this

stupid

pathetic

adoration

that
i
feel

it picks away
at my head
trying to
get through
my thick skull
and
attempting
to leave me in
a puddle
of
my own
disgusting goo

but i can only fight
so hard
i don’t know what to do

i feel sick to my stomach
over how
badly i want you

this stupid ****** brain
and repulsive ******* heart
keep trying to **** me
but instead i remain
repeating the same
actions
that have
been leading me
to the same place
where every time i wake up here
i don’t recognize my own face
and it gets harder and harder
not to blow out my brains
when it’s like
my entire existence
is a joke
just a mean-spirited prank
like maybe this could have been funny
but it’s gone too far
and i don’t know why
i ever pretended to laugh
it would be
much funnier
to take my toaster
in the bath

unless there’s something
that i missed
the right direction
doesn’t exist
and i’m left
endlessly wandering
as i’m clumsily
stumbling
into
walls
there’s nothing
at all
nowhere i belong
none of this
adds up
life doesn’t
make any ******* sense
it’s all wrong

i don’t know
what’s a bigger mess
this meat in my head
or this thing in my chest
they’re both ******* stupid
always trying to see who’s best
when in reality
they’re both ****** up
so there’s really
no contest

i try to be funny
because when
i make people laugh
i can trick myself
for a moment
into thinking i’m happy
and when those moments end
it all comes rushing back
all the thoughts of
self hatred
the fear of inadequacy
the disgust of my complacency
and then i remember all over again
why i keep ending up
back here
in this hole
but it doesn’t matter
what i know
i just don’t
care enough
to make things better
i just hope
i don’t grow old

happiness evades me
as the truth sinks in
about all that i’ve done
but even more so
what i haven’t

the light is bright
but it just infects my eyes
it’s too hard to see
what’s up ahead of me
as my eyeballs blister
and fall out of my skull
they roll in the dirt
and get coated in filth

days come and go
they’re all the same
with subtle differences
that are not enough to keep me sane
my rotten brain
has too many awful things to say
about the world
and my life
and mostly
about me

the ticking of my clock
acts as a metronome
to every unheard song
that gets stuck in my head
my toes get trapped in mud
as i try to tap them
and eventually i give up
on making any sense
to anyone around me
because i don’t
get me either

Oh,
No.
I must dismiss,
And forget.
But my mind is low,
And my grave is set.
Eyes they water,
And hands they sweat.
Sounds of laughter
To thoughts of threat.
Please.
Leave me be to just reset.
Let the cycle be free,

And just let me rest.

grounding doesn't work for me
naming a few things around can't help when nothing feels real to begin with

days pass by in seconds, i hate people as much as i love them
i wish i could just observe & yearn from a distance,
never interact or become vulnerable with people who i wrongfully trusted.

it brought me immense comfort thinking that i don't matter in the world.
that i don't effect the life of anybody.
i needed to tap into that fantasy to sink into the oblivion of sleep without regrets,
to ease my anxiety

i don't know if that's beautiful or sad

i am obsessed with dreams & make-believe, to the point that real life either seems unreal

or too real to the point it paralyzes you

I've had a stomach ache
since I was seven, a blade
in my belly, a hive in my head
have you ever mistaken a bee
for a wasp? they sting and say
incessantly buzzing, pricking
they want out as much as I do
Some days I want to peel my flesh
cut myself in half and purge the venom
watch it seep out of me like
sticky sap from a sycamore
instead I take my medicine
and talk about you.

if you dissected
a frog
what would
you see?
could it be
all the ugly
*****
secret
parts of me?

and if
you
saw
a nasty
spider
then you gave it
a good splat
and left it
on the wall to rot
that’s me
that’s where i’m at

when there’s a scab
that just keeps itching
one you
just can’t help
but pick
and it bleeds
never healing
it’s me,
that’s me
i’m it

i’m a bad dream
that leaves you
shaking
in cold sweat
only to have you
wake up
wishing you
wouldn’t forget
i linger just a bit
like a bad taste
on your tongue
keep you guessing
who the hell
i could be
if i decide
to let myself be free
and i think
we’re both
a little
if not
a lot
scared
of how great this
and we
could be