Happy Birthday

I think the worst thing is having to celebrate another person’s birthday on your actual birthday. 

Because you aren’t the popular one.

So your friends wouldn’t have come to your party.

And that would probably be worse.

Because you can pretend that their party is for you.

And you know it will be better than anything you would do for your own birthday.

And maybe they’re not singing your name.

And the cake’s not your favourite flavour.

And no one actually knows it’s your birthday.

But at least you’re not alone.

At least your friends are there.

Maybe not for you.


You can pretend.


Don’t try so hard.

Everyone says it 

At some point.

To someone, just for


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


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 


You’re not


Enthusiasm is old,


Don’t try so hard,

You’re only making a


Of yourself.

So let me lose my drive,

My will power and 


Because I wouldn’t want

To look ridiculous,

In addition,

To just 


The Hurt

I’d rather hurt,

Than hurt others.

The pain is a consequence,

To remind me to never 


A human being again.

But it is also a 


So long as I hurt,

Others will not.

If I suffer,

Then maybe I can


Someone else,

From this 


I’d rather it be me,

Than someone else.

Because everyone else is


And more important,

Than me.

Their feelings and emotions,

Mean more to me,

Than anything 

I could


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,








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.


I’m angry.

No, I’m


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


My whole body shakes,

Just trying to hold in

A scream of rage.

A vein pulses somewhere in my forehead





I shove my face into a pillow

And shred my vocal cords,

A rage-filled riff of possible


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.


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


That won’t



And then I just drop.

The anger’s all gone,


Because I’m weak.

Because I’m sobbing now.

Because I’m pathetic;

Because I can’t even smash a glass.