Original Poem I made named "Dysphoria"
TW: If you're sensitive to certain topics do not read for your own good:] (sorry if I have any bad grammar)
messy hair, messy clothes, messy words, messy phrases. It all means so little to others but it means so much to you. Messy identity, messy personality. It controls your thoughts like the way your hand controls your fingertips. Messy thoughts, messy mirror. The way you look in the mirror you notice every small detail about yourself, every flaw, every mistake, every part of yourself that you are slowly loosing. It is all fading away into the depth of the mirror into the depth of your mind. "It's still there", "Why me?" you think over and over again until tears are rolling down and it's the only thing you can think about all day. Just a constant repeating thought over and over. Wanting to change your mind, identity, body, you try. Nobody can see through your brain just endeavoring itself, nobody can see the way you attempt to live every day without one poke at your mind of "Why can't I just be a boy?", "Why can't I just be normal?" I mean is this 'normal'? Is anything normal? Am I 'normal'? People always say that you're not normal or you're weird. But does that really matter? They don't know anything about what goes on in your head. It's like a tornado. A tornado full of paragraphs and papers with long writings on it of every single thing you have ever felt, every single thing you have ever thought of, every single thing that made you who you are. If only you knew truly what your mind is
this would go away.
