the slumber party

trigger warning: self-harm. need to talk? crisis lines are here.

let’s make up secret languages, and i’ll bury my head in your shoulder trying to cut out the world from existence. self-harm thoughts and little wounds, but it’s all right. i keep band-aids on me at all times.

let’s stay up late or watch tv or get lost in the forest. and when you’re not looking, i’ll sneak out back and let the panic crush my skull, because i can’t handle this. all right? but it’s okay. i don’t want you to know.

and i’ll fall apart without you. because i love you, which means i don’t even know who i am without you. which means i’ll crumble the very second i start to doubt you. 

and you know, when i was a kid, i used to keep the broken things. odd socks, and shattered mugs, and containers without lids. tuck them in drawers in my room, and tell them they were worthy. because maybe, if i could surround something with the same love i wished i could give myself, it would fix me.

i remember, how i used to feel so empty. like a hollowed-out seashell, left behind as some souvenir for another shattered reality. and to be honest, some days, i still feel that way.

This seriously isn’t about anyone in particular–it’s mostly just about something I do in general. When I meet a person who makes me feel loved or accepted, I guess I latch onto them really easily, because of how terrified I am of them leaving. Also, that story about me as a kid is true–I really did used to do that. 

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avoidance strategies

if i don’t think about it, i won’t have to do anything about it, at least for tonight. and that’s enough for me, okay? just give me one more day, where i don’t have to be afraid of who i’ll become when i turn and face the light. 

if i don’t think about it, i’ll have just a little longer to hold the world in my hands, and let it stir in my chest. let it make me so scared it’s hard to breathe and did i ever not feel this exhausted?

and you see, my mind is feeling like an electric fence today. and every step forward i take is some kind of calamity, and today, my mind is endless pounding gravity, dragging me down, down, down, crushing hopes and dreams into a solid ball of matter until there’s nothing left i remember. 

today, my mind plays guard. and i am its prisoner.

Check out the spoken word version here. Find me on PatreonYouTubeInstagramWattpadTumblr, and on Twitter.

right now, i just want to fit in

angsty teenager thoughts, or whatever the fuck this is. and yeah, i know you’re going to laugh. but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to feel like this.

and i’ll try to be honest with you, okay? right now, i do not need anything else to worry about. i don’t need to second-guess my outfit to the point of panic, or shrink into the walls, because someone’s going to hurt me, and i just know it. and it’s stupid, and cliche, but if it means i don’t have to be this afraid, i want to be normal. even for a day.

because i hate this, enough to claw off my skin. hate my fucked up mind. hate that i’m human. and i’m just a kid, and no matter how hard i try there’s still no avoiding that. 

and you know, sometimes i think i don’t even know what it’s like to like myself. and i’m still not over it. even though goddamnit, you were so little. you know you should be over it.

because forgive and forget. because close your eyes, and wipe away the scars of what you’ve been through like the morning frost on your windshield. you shouldn’t have been so weak as to let it get to you. 

and yet here you are again. spinning through the same thought cycle as always, pounding at the glass, begging for rescue and never getting it. and here i go. here i go. here i go again.

I get really anxious around other kids my age, I guess. Of late, even going to school a couple days a week (it’s complicated, I’m not a truant I promise, I’m just semi-homeschooled) has been really hard for me.

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i don’t know how to talk about this part. the part… where i’m not perfect. where i am a kid and i am tired. the part where sometimes, i just want to curl up, and close my eyes and let the darkness bury me for a really long time.

and i am falling, i am falling, i am falling. and maybe i pushed myself off this cliff once upon a time, but it’s not a decision. it was never a decision. it was you, all along, wasn’t it? squirming through my thoughts, and fucking up my head. 

i don’t know how to talk about this part. the part where i am a person. with limits, and flaws. a person who doesn’t always know what the answer is. 

so keep going. keep going. keep going. keep working, and working, and working, like if i grind my own marrow into word count it’ll build the future they never believed i could have from nothing.

until i can barely keep your my eyes open. and i’m not sure, but i think it’s 1 in the morning.

and i will hide in the darkness, and pretend nothing is wrong with this, and i am and productive, and functional, and everything is fine, because if i sacrifice enough pieces of myself, i can still compensate, all right…

I really did write this at 1a.m., for the record. Listen to the spoken word version here

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october 28th, 2019

this is the perfect time to stop answering my text messages. as i’m clawing myself out of quicksand. screaming for someone to help. but no matter how hard they try, no one can save me from myself. 

because i’d rather be sad and alone than out of control. rather be respected for a lie than infantilized for a truth buried deep. down. inside.

so call the lightning bolts a show of nature. ignore the cities burning down across my cheeks. let me cry in the corner and please just ignore me. i’m begging you to ignore me.

because i never asked for you to love me. and if this is how you care about me than maybe i don’t want you to care about me.

maybe i was right all along. maybe i’m just… one of those people who’s made to be lonely.

I’ve been really struggling with cutting myself off of late. I’m normally not that kind of person, like I’ve probably said in earlier posts–communication is one of my strong suits, so it’s weird to be struggling so much with it. This was written and shoved in my queue ages ago, probably around the date the title says, but even a month after having probably written it, this still hits really close to home for me. 

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