new backpack & new clothes

trigger warning: anxiety, feelings of sadness/depression, insecurity, social anxiety, fairly detailed mention of suicidal thoughts

and it smells a little like metal and a little like rubber and kinda like gasoline / or is that just me / wondering / could i wipe my soul clean / if i just wore pastel colours / and would i be happy if i could just / be normal / if i just / posed in the mirror and said positive affirmations like prayers to somebody / maybe it’s you / maybe it’s me / i don’t know / could i just not be heavy for a while / could i be a mermaid swimming through an ocean of okay / and an ocean that is calm and still / and it’s definitely tropical / it’s definitely beautiful / and calm / and easy / and life never hurts me / i never amplify the hurt / i never hurt me / could i be okay if i just wore pretty clothes and ballet flats / i know it’s silly but i sorta believe it when the advertising promised i’d be ok / could i look like the models in the mirror staring back at me telling me my thighs are definitely fat and ugly / what if i wore makeup / when i don’t want to wear makeup / what if i just took pictures / and used filters / and maybe then / i could just be numb / i want to be numb / to all of it / i want to be frozen like a half-melted snowflake in my statuesque palm / i want to stand still in the morning stuck in the numbness of the sunrise and the alone and the cold on my arms sending frost tickling through my body and in this moment / i am lying still on the sand and my heart is warm as it burns itself to pieces / and my heart is warm as it pretends it’s all right when it isn’t because my all right is probably your crazy / i know my own boundaries fine / the issue is that every time i notice them i compulsively trespass each line / and my heart is warm and blinded as it wrestles with itself desperately trying to skim through the pages in the textbook of my life / trying to navigate to the part where i tell me how to be happy / except me doesn’t listen / and me doesn’t like me / and me is not okay with me / and what if i was the kind friend in the books / what if i made you smile / what if i made you laugh / maybe then / my life / would sort of go black and white / when i say i narrate my life in third person / i mean i get confused sometimes / the desire to be frozen / be still / be so still i emboss my heartbeats onto the pages / be so still they know you are there breaking down and then they turn around and then finally you can breathe because they’re watching you and it’s all right / be so still you seem normal in your insanity / and the desire to die / so when i say that it’s not suicidal thoughts exactly / i mean that every morning the anxiety whispers gently in my ear that you would love me better / if i could just be dead / or gone / or silent / it feels like dead to me / but call it whatever word you can think of / for the tired galaxy in the mirror / looking back at me


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