violent content ahead: reader discretion advised
Who knew I could be so scared of myself?
I run from the shadow of who I was and yet it’s still stuck to my feet
Like residue from a faraway land
Who knew I could hate the person I’ve become so much?
When they ask you as a kid what you see in your future you never think to respond “I’d rather the mirror be cracked than have to see myself in it”
Who knew that habits are as resilient as the society that shaped them?
And now I walk through the halls and I pull my shirt down
Make sure I can be seen
Make sure I’m attention-grabbing
Now I carefully think of what to answer my friends to make sure I’m strange and therefore interesting
Who knew the girl who pushed everyone away would now be desperate for love?
And now sell her body and mind to the first passerby that will fill that void.
She now has experiences she wishes to escape but they pull her back. Reminding her of the artificial warmth of his embrace.
She now convinces herself that she loves and her brain tries to logically explain the unreplicable feeling.
Who knew the 7-year-old girl who built up a fight or flight response to the word “weird”
Today would sink to her knees on the bathroom floor wishing she could run from the ghost of herself.
Wishing the striking, bleeding cuts on her body would let her soul slip away.