Everyone told me it got better,
And I really want to believe that.
I know it gets worse before it gets better,
But how fucking long do I have to wait.
Because after six years I still hate myself for being gay.
Because after six years I still have no idea what the hell my gender is.
Because after six years I still have the same dangerous habits.
Because after six years I'm still that 11 year old kid who made the biggest mistake of her life.
Because after six years I still regret it.
I don't want to.
I want to be happy I came out.
Be happy I got help.
But instead I just became a better lier.
I tell all the younger gay kids "it gets worse before it gets better. But it does get better eventually."
Each one of them admiring my confidence and where I am in my life.
But none of them know it's a lie.
That I'm telling them that for me more than them.
That I don't actually know if it gets better, I just hope it does.
All this pain can't be for nothing.
There must be something there at the end to make this worth it.
I need there to be something to make this worth it.
If there isnt I don't know how much longer I'll last.
I need a break, but life won't afford people like me one.
I need something, anything.
Just a reason to keep going because I've ran out of reasons to get to the "better"
YOU ARE READING
The Midnight Rantings Of Someone Lost
PoetrySome of these will be short stories, others letters to both real and fictional people, and really whatever else I see fit to add Also, I put this under poetry bc it was that or random And i'll be changing the cover in the near future
