I feel no different, except maybe a little disappointed.
Happy birthdayto me.
I wrecked my mother’s car this week,
My brand new phone malfunctioned,
Some of my best friends are leaving to Europe for a year,
My therapist told me I’m different,
I haven’t cut in a month but I may cut tonight,
I may take all the sleeping pills too,
But I know I wont because I don’t want to die tonight,
I’m curious to see where this will go,
I want to have sex,
Have it in the park,
Under the playground,
and then we’d laugh.
I’m troubled, and disconnected. I’m dead but alive. I feel no different and yet I see a difference in myself that a year has made. I was mentally ill, and now maybe I am more so then when I first started but here I am. Grown as a person, far out of my age.
I’m getting used to the flavor of the blood on my wrist.