envious of you all.

envy.

play the song when you see a ( ☆ )

TW /// self harm, drug abuse, dysphoria, mature language.
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the delicate way their shirt hangs off their shoulders. if only.

the sharp point at which their jaw line hits the top of their necks.

the poise of the way that they move their hips.

if only.
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sick of wanting.

sick of longing.

the stress of feeling like you're something that you do not appear as, really pulls on oneself.

all she wanted was to be like him. to move how he did, to reach up and pick items up with ease.

his height fascinated her so much.

but who was she to want something she couldn't ever have?

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(☆)

in denial.

denial of herself.

her femininity washing her up.

destroying her mind. her thoughts.

all she had wanted was to be happy.

all she had wanted was to see herself differently. to be happy with herself.

to be contained. centered.

but when she looked down, all she saw was a version of herself she didn't like.

filled with lust for the masculinity she didn't have.

wishing for it.

seeking god, seeking signs, angle numbers. anything for reassurance.

but with lost hope, and an aching soul, she arrived home, no different.

still the same.

feminine.

she'd tried to bring pain upon herself before.

she hated how it felt.

but the euphoria after, something that she had longed for.

just that two second feeling.

that feeling of warmth, the engulfing sensation of exhilaration.

she had received it from a small blade pushing into her skin.

she hadn't ever felt that before.

that feeling of ecstasy she yearned for.

but that night, she had felt it.

of course, rolling a blunt had given her the same effect.

so did that bottle of bourbon.

but she didn't want to relapse on those memories that were tied to alcohol. so she had stopped drinking.

that's when she put a use to rolling instead.

pills were a no-go for her. after seeing what they had done to her loved ones, never again.

as wrong as it was, she was addicted.