not a trend setter
I am not depressed because it’s a trend.
i do not choose to sit in silence
my thoughts pounding through my head like bass drum hitting on beat every time making me weak
I don’t spit these rhymes to make you feel like someone understands what you are going through.
I will not compare my love to a flower blossoming in spring and dying in the winter, and I will not dress these words up as if they are going out on Friday night.
I do not use the word rape
because it’s “tragically beautiful” to fall in love and not let anyone near you because hands touched you were hands were not welcome.
your violent love wasn’t welcomed.
I do not smoke to fill the aching hole where my heart used to be with smoke and ash
because I know damn well I will breathe it out every time.
I do not breathe with shards of my broken fragments stabbing me in the lungs because you chose to romanticize the pain that you yourself could never understand.
I do not take these words and say them lightly
because this demon inside me isn’t just killing me slightly
he’s eating me hole.
with his eyes
and her smile
with my voice
and your fantasy
that these thoughts in my mind are for attention.
where do you get off telling me to calm the tsunami of tears
“hush now, child. don’t think about it. if you don’t think you won’t feel. let it go.”
let it go.
let the way his hands felt sliding down my back as tears stung my eyes but god forbid I cry and let the world see that I have real feelings.
I am not depressed because it’s a trend.
stop romanticizing the little white lines covering my wrist
my arms
my hips. stop romanticizing the way I hide my eyes from the world and shield my heart from love because it is not beautiful.
it is not asks for.
until you get it through your thick skull and little white prescription pad that maybe I’m not tumblr maybe I’m just sad
I’ll continue to smoke.
not to fill the hole in my aching chest where my heart used to be
simply because in breathing out thick sweet smoke, I feel free.
insight to my disorder
