Let my skin scrape against yours, let my brain leak amongst the floor. Let my eyes bleed into the ceiling and let my hair burn against the wind.
So many times I see the days pass by me and I want to drive a wedge so deep into my skin that it leaves a mark. I am so tired of each day, so tired of being hated just for walking the street, there is only so much hate someone could take before it tears their skin.
Before the hate slowly begins to win, before no one could stop them from the life they don't want anymore. There is only so much a mental can take, before it breaks down and shakes.
Only so many tears you can cry before being called a crybaby makes a person shake, only so much skin that can twitch before you began to tear it off. Only so much, only so much.
When I see how my life could be, I began to weep, the days of sorrow filling my weak body as the disgusting mold, seeps in from the food I eat.
Fatty tissue stuffing my throat, making it hard to breathe as I can't fathom the fact of someone truly loving me. The self-hatred going pass food and beyond simple jokes, for this had been embedded in me since the womb.
The simple disgust of myself, that has become worse than how the ancestors had to deal with. For a person couldn't match the own anger, the fight, I have with my body, my soul.
The vessel that I was cursed with being the absolute burden of my existence and the shame of my voice. Isn't terrible I feel this way? Maybe, but for some reason the feeling can't stop.
The shame and guilt for being alive is worse than any feeling imaginable, horror pulsing in my heart as my teeth rot from the inside. Melting away like icky candy, and sinking into my body like a fever that can't be cured.
Oh for the words that people think about me is only the tip of the iceberg, the bullying is only the beginning. The shame is the buildup, the heart-crushing pain and the internal suffering that I fear will never go away.
For Years, feeling like I don't belong and having people confirm it to you, breaks something in you. Something that not even the people you love can fix, the slight twitch of anger, building up so high that you don't even realize it's there.
Being taken advantage of, being stripped of your own name, being a fucking puppet. A doormat to be dragged and walked all over. So much to where you can't even look at people the same, can't even comprehend the same way for everything starts to twist in your mind and you start becoming bitter.
Like a fruit, one that has been out too long and has worms growing in the flesh. That is what it feels like, what it's been feeling like. Crushing and undeniable tormenting.
Poor flesh body, so sensitive, so dull and full of emotions that can't even stand ground. Can't face the reality in which your species has created, for you were made with hate. From the moment it all went wrong, either the bang or the apple whichever you believe or don't. There has been something internally wrong with the human cranium. Pieces missing, and sympathy lacking for evil is the natural nature of the species. Kindness being a secondary factor, a rarity in fact that little to no humans even possess. For the simple emerald paper had took over the mind of humans and made them take advantage of their own kind. Made them hate their own kind, even to where people don't even want to live in their own bodies.
For they can continue to fight for what's right but the truth will always stand, the pain, the hurt. The beating organ that is fighting for dear life. Waiting for the right herb or medicine to fix it but our bodies were doomed with this a long time ago. There is no cure to death or elixir of life for death is the least of what we deserve.
For the millions of bodies we have poisoned and kept from healthcare have shown humanity's true colors. Our true values as we go into our supposed future that doesn't even exist.
The earth is dying and the children don't even have a home anymore, we don't have a home anymore. I don't have a home and I don't think I ever had, maybe a house but not a home. Not a comfort not a safe space and probably won't ever have one in this lifetime. No matter how much I would want one, it just doesn't feel possible in this universe.
Maybe in another one we are safer, kinder, and better off but in this one there is no hope. Only false love and pure hatred in one's self. I am the example of that self hatred for the years I have dealt with this very plague has nearly ended me. Only simple placebos able to calm my poor tainted head.
Aches, and whispers in my head, spinning round and round in a circle as people watch and stare. Pretending like something isn't wrong with me when there is, for I needed help a long time ago yet my aid has been lackluster.
My resources not finite but they feel as though they are, stomach bulging and mouth leaking out drool as the body lies unresponsive. The realization of what I have to live with too much for me to bear and my heart not able to take much more of the panic.
My time growing closer as the fake smiles no longer start to stain my already damaged face. Hunger prevailed in my body yet something in my brain tells me I should starve rather. Make things as painful as possible.
For when this sadness leaked into me from the womb, I was cursed from the beginning.