One day I will look in the mirror and find a stranger.
There are studs of silver all over my room from when I was younger and all I wanted to do was shove unknown metals through my skin and call it rebellion.
There are black nail pooling bottles, and scissors for cutting my own hair and face paint for when I wanted nothing else but to look like Bowie.
I'm not a normal teenage girl, and I think I guess I'm an adult now.
I kissed boys on the mouth when I was wishing they'd kiss my soul. I tried to drown myself in the bathtub u Tim I figured out I couldn't breathe and that I wanted to.
There is nothing poetic about the way I want so badly on Saturday nights to cut into my own skin with whatever sharp object I can find. There is nothing poetic about how I haven't left the house in three months except to go buy hair dye so I don't have to recognize myself anymore.
I don't find poetry in the stars because the remind me too much of you.
I looked in the mirror today and found a stranger
and nothing about this is poetic.
-L.T
