Such a mess

9.30 PM

I ran to that bathroom,

sat next to the toilet while crying my eyes out.

A million thoughts running through my head:

“you fatty” “ew look at her scars” “trans freak”

I look at my arms and suddenly I feel guilty.

I lean on the toilet, my chest pressed on the edge.

It all went black while i spewed my problems aside.

I can taste it.

I can smell it, touch it

I can feel the thoughts messing in my head.

I can see the wreck i am.

can feel the mess i am

I need that taste to go away

I need to forget what just happened.

so i ran to the balcony and lit a cigarette.

as if it’ll make all of my problems disappear.

Aback I can’t breathe.

I kept asking myself why I am the way I am.

“Why am I a mess?”

God… there’s no answer to that.

– Anonimo