Enthusiasm

Don’t try so hard.

Everyone says it 

At some point.

To someone, just for

Trying.

Don’t try too hard to

Fit in.

The more you care,

The worse off you’ll be.

We lose our passions

And our dreams,

For the sake of being

Accepted.

You shouldn’t be happier

Than everyone else,

Or angrier,

Or sadder.

Don’t put too much energy

Into your lives;

You’re trying too hard.

And the entire point now,

Is that you’re just 

Trying.

You’re not

Succeeding.

Enthusiasm is old,

Overdone.

Don’t try so hard,

You’re only making a

Fool

Of yourself.

So let me lose my drive,

My will power and 

Excitement.

Because I wouldn’t want

To look ridiculous,

In addition,

To just 

Trying.

The Hurt

I’d rather hurt,

Than hurt others.

The pain is a consequence,

To remind me to never 

Hurt

A human being again.

But it is also a 

Solution.

So long as I hurt,

Others will not.

If I suffer,

Then maybe I can

Save

Someone else,

From this 

Pain.

I’d rather it be me,

Than someone else.

Because everyone else is

Better,

And more important,

Than me.

Their feelings and emotions,

Mean more to me,

Than anything 

I could

Feel.

I’d rather hurt myself,

Than let someone else 

Be hurt.

I Wanted to Be a Boy

I always wanted to be a boy.

It meant peeing standing up,

And being the funny one in class.

Being a boy meant I could

Wear whatever I wanted,

Eat as much food as I liked

And not be condemned for it.

I always wanted to be a boy;

Because I wouldn’t have to wear makeup,

Or a pair of shorts under my dress.

Because I could walk home alone at night

And not be afraid of the shadows.

It meant that I could burp in front of everyone,

To the sound of applause instead of shock.

Being a boy,

To me,

Was a solution to everything that was wrong in my life.

It was the idea that,

If I were a boy,

I would be strong.

I could overpower whoever I wanted,

And getting in trouble gave me popularity.

I could sleep with whoever I wanted,

And be respected for it.

I could have problems with mental health,

And not be told I just want attention.

I always wanted to be a boy,

Because it seemed so much better,

Than being a girl.

A stupid,

Slutty,

Flirty,

Air-headed,

Giggly,

Fake

Girl.

Shrink

Shrink yourself down,

Like a mouse slips out of a trap;

Squeeze and wriggle and shove

Until you are free.

But you’re not really free,

Because someone has heard you;

You either make noise,

Or you die.

So you run and you run,

From the humans that come;

Chasing you through the maze that is your mind.

Running and running and running out of breath,

Until finally you hide.

You stop running;

Shrink yourself down,

Crawl in tight,

And hide yourself away in the dark,

And the shadows…

Of the maze your mind created.

Angry

I’m angry.

No, I’m

Furious.

Limbs shaking,

Hands balling into fists,

Clenching and unclenching.

I can feel my teeth grinding against each other,

Turning into a sneer,

And I’m

Angry.

My whole body shakes,

Just trying to hold in

A scream of rage.

A vein pulses somewhere in my forehead

And

I

Am

ANGRY.

I shove my face into a pillow

And shred my vocal cords,

A rage-filled riff of possible

Insanity.

I grab an empty beer bottle

And stomp my way outside.

My breathing is loud,

Snorting in through my nose

And shoved right back out again.

Angry.

My hand is tight on the bottle

And I lift my fist above my head

And I throw it down onto the pavement,

With everything I have.

And it bounces.

I’m staring at this stupid glass

Bottle,

That won’t

Fucking

BREAK.

And then I just drop.

The anger’s all gone,

Poof.

Because I’m weak.

Because I’m sobbing now.

Because I’m pathetic;

Because I can’t even smash a glass.

The Rock

When it sits on you like a rock,

An immovable boulder,

Too heavy to lift

Alone;

What do you do?

They say,

“Ask for help,”

But it’s not that simple,

Is it?

Who do you ask?

How do you know they’ll help you?

That they’ll love you?

How can you trust that they won’t get

Tired of you?

So,

What do you do,

With that rock?

You carry it around,

Dragging it everywhere you go,

Across the paths on your skin,

And the oceans that pool in your eyes:

All alone.

You tie it to a rope and run down a hill;

It’s only when you reach the bottom,

That the weight can crush you.