twenty-seven.

I fucking hate Jolene
with her flaming hair
and her stupid bow
and the way she smiles

I fucking hate Jolene
with her sea green eyes
and her pretty hands
and the way she cries

I fucking hate Jolene
she's nicer
she's smarter
she's funnier

everyone fucking loves Jolene.

all I can see
is her red hair
flashing past my fingertips
gasping her way past me in a flash
the crowd goes wild

(I'm second place in a race against myself
isn't that just pathetic)

I fucking hate Jolene
we're the same
both suffering
from the same kind of pain

except of course
she's suffering
more than I ever will

so everyone loves her
she's adored
more than I'll ever be

I'm breathing her air
I'm stealing her friends

I'm a Jolene
without the hair
without the bow
without the eyes
without the hands

without the suffering

they don't need me
I don't need me
why would they
when they have Jolene?

twenty six.

I can't sleep.

there's an uncomfortable feeling in my chest
it curls around my heart
holding it captive

I'm scared.

that he'll leave
again
for the last time

but I won't show it.

I'll smile for you.
laugh for you.
love for you.

but I'll never cry for you.

my pain is irrelevant.

is it a bad thing that someone can make you so happy?
is it even worse that someone can make you so sad?

I'm not good enough for you.
I'm not good enough for anyone.

why did I leap into this rabbit hole
knowing that I'd be falling forever?

this post is a mess.
I'm a mess.

goodnight.

twenty five.

do I have the right to be depressed?
because I see all these people who have been bullied, abused, etc.
and I haven't experienced any of that.
I'm depressed about nothing.
I should be grateful.
this is just me complaining about a life that so many others would kill to have.

and every time I'm vocal about my problems or my desire to die, it never ends well.
everyone thinks I'm saying "kms" for attention.
is it for attention?
I guess, in a way it is.
maybe deep down I want somebody to help me.
to let me know I'm not alone.
or to save me from this pit I'm falling into.

I'm going to stop being vocal about my problems.
I won't tell anyone anymore.
there's no point.
no one believes me.
there's only pity and annoyance.
and heaping my problems onto other people doesn't make the problem go away.
it just makes other people worry.
they have their own problems.
and sometimes they don't care.
sometimes they ignore it.
there's no point.

nobody reads this anymore so it's okay.

I wish I could help you.
I know exactly what you're going through and yet I can't do anything because I don't know how.
please don't kill yourself.
it'll really suck and I'll miss you a lot.
I don't know how to make you see that you're not too negative.
that you're not at fault for anything.
that you shouldn't hate yourself for things you can't even help doing.

see, I know all these things.
but I can't apply it to myself.

I looked in the mirror today.
I think I am too fat.
I know I'm not.
but my thighs are too big and my stomach is always rounded.
so I'm going to skip breakfast and dinner.
I know this is not healthy.
I know that I will probably not lose weight like this.
but I will still do it.
the more messed up I am, the more chance I will take myself seriously.

even I have started to doubt myself.
I'm not sure if I really have depression because I've never been bullied or abused.
and anxiety too.

I stopped cutting and I don't get any urges to anymore.
does that mean I'm not depressed?
no one will take me seriously if I don't cut or try to kill myself.
I have a job that involves talking to people and I can kind of go outside without anxiety kicking in.
I talk to people on the phone too for my job.
does that mean I don't have anxiety either?
I'm not always shaking.
and I'm not extremely shy.
am I faking it?

what if I started to cut again?
where would I cut?
it's starting to get colder so I can probably slit my wrists without anyone seeing.
but what if I get bloodstains on the sleeves?
if I do little cuts it'll probably be okay.

anyway.
I will put all my thoughts here.
so it will not bother anyone.
and I will not be as much of a terrible person as I was before.

twenty four.

hey.

how are you?

we haven't talked in a while.

well, not properly, anyway.

recently, I've stopped.

thinking.

crying.

about you.

it's for the best, right?

after all,

things change.

feelings fade.

the more I meddle with your life,

the worse it gets.

and you don't deserve that.

I doubt I'm still anything to you.

except somebody you used to know.

maybe you even hate me.

but that's fine.

it was bound to happen.

I'm not sad.

at least, I don't think so.

maybe somewhere in the back of my mind,

I'm still hoping for things to go back.

to how they used to be.

so what am I living for now?

hope. I lived off it.

the hope you gave me used to be everything.

you were everything.

maybe you still are.

even now, I'm still stupidly hoping.

why did I put you up on a pedestal?

I know you hate this side of me.

I hoped that...maybe you wouldn't.

but you're like everyone else.

so why did I care so much?

this mind of mine won't get me anywhere.

no matter where I go,

no matter who I meet,

everyone will be the same.

so what's the point of living?

I don't really know.

I don't think there's any point,

since everyone hates me so much.

I wonder how long I'll live.

twenty three.

I don't know anymore.

fuck
not this again
it's like we've just met

I tried so hard not to care
but I can't deny that I do

why can't you just tell me
imagination is deadly
especially when it's reality

shit shit shit
I can't give you anything
this is what I deserve
I care so fucking much
I tried so hard
in the end
I just
fuck

what's wrong with me
you weren't mine to begin with
now I know why
that promise went unmade
you were hoping for something better

I'm hopeless
stumbling after you
just wanting for you to look back
take my hand and smile
like you used to

no one sees you the way I do
and maybe that's a good thing
because it hurts
(and maybe I like you too much)

"I miss you too"
that's all I wanted to hear.