h a r s h t r u t h.


a confession, the truth. the emotions that run through my youth.

i was eight.

i was hopeful.

dreamt of meeting my prince.

fast forward to fourteen.

i was a goner.

dragged myself through tough times.

i was a lost dreamer.

then came fifteen.

it was sweet.

you played your cards.

and i fell at your feet.

by sixteen.

we were cool.

love was the game.

and it felt like we ruled.

but then seventeen arrived.

and all hell broke loose.

you couldn’t take my pain.

marking the end of our reign.

these scars are a perfect representation of this youth that has dulled. the pain i feel deepens each day and the urge to hurt myself grows so much more. i don’t blame you anymore for my pain. i don’t blame you for the cuts, for the starving, for the tears and for the hatred i have buried in me.

for when it boils down to the reason i’m dying inside, it’s because it has always been self-loathing that’s killing me.





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