dysfunctional family, mental illness, memories and memories and memories and memories i can’t escape from, i’ve died a long time ago.
words that don’t define who i am, i hear it from them every single day, i never expected understanding from anyone. the only thing worse is that they are occasionally, decent people, and they see it as if they’re granting me something i don’t deserve. i’m scared to tell them, they ask but they don’t listen and from experiences, countless times i tried, it’s never going to go through.
i’m not falling apart. i’m a plastic shell with shattered pieces, i never thought any of this would happen, i never thought it’s possible to feel anything like this. it’s my fault that i became this ill fuck. it is, it is, it is, it is, it is but they turned me into this, no it’s not them, it’s me, it’s me but it’s them, it’s them but it’s me. i hate my family, i hate them i love them i love them so much i want to die, they can hurt me, hurt me more, hurt me more and drown me alive, they can do anything because i love them, oh i love them i love them so much i love them so much. i just can’t live with this anymore, i can’t with their words and my thoughts and my conditions and my head i can’t ,live in my head i can’t live in my head i can’t live in myself. i can’t live in myself, i can’t be myself, i don’t know who i am. i’m the only one at fault here, if i weren’t here, nothing like this would happen. one second i’m ok the next second i’m
when i was a child i never thought any of this would happen, when i saw the things in the world as what the others see in a world. the beaches, the sun, the energy drinks and knock off adidas, when i had a glow in my eyes and nothing in my heart.
i’m pitying myself, again, shut up.
i can’t go on, i can’t go on and i can’t go on but if i end it here i’ll ruin other people’s lives, i’ve lived for the others for my whole life and even at the second of my death i’ll continue to do so. i can’t die. i’m torturing myself but i deserve it, i deserve what i feel, and i’ll continue to do so, with that clown’s motive in my head and layers of masks on my face, praying that a car’ll run me over, or a school shooter shoots me in the head. things in my head that’ll never get across, maybe they’re justified, maybe it’s just the part of being in jail, like the shitty meatloaves and orange jumpsuit, maybe i deserve it for committing the felony of living as who i am. so what’s the problem? keep hurting me, keep hurting me, keep hurting me, i’ll even do it further. the voices, the memories, the things the illness feeds me——i even opened my mouth for the spoon to go in. don’t ever talk about it, don’t ever say it out loud. someone as disgusting and ignorant as me should have no right as a human being, i shouldn’t feel any sense of happiness at all, i shouldn’t wish for better at all, i shouldn’t reach for other’s love or ever go under the sun.
i want to be in pain, self contradicting since i’d die to be less ill. i want to be in agony, i want to stay in this purgatory named life. i deserve this as a punishment, i deserve everything that has happened, i recognize the fact that it’s my fault for being me and i deserve to be kept in this prison, but it’s only human nature to be a coward and an escapee, yet i can’t with my head half sunken in water and my arms tied to the walls and my legs chained by reality.