i exist [as the definition of nonexistence]

I'm just another screwed up kid, sugar. just another nobody

My mom was a drug addict, my dad was in prison, my family isn't my family, I was adopted by another family, but they don't know me so that doesn't count.

Don't talk about that.

My first kiss was when I was five, she was my best friend and I didn't know it wasn't okay. I liked her before I like the boy with really big blue eyes, but I swear, I didn't know it was wrong, I didn't know

Don't talk about that.

I stopped crushing on girls, because I realized that homosexuality was a sin and I would burn in hell for thinking her freckles looked like constellations that I wanted to kiss.

I dated a lot of guys, but I didn't like them very much.

Don't talk about that.

The first boy I kissed was a spur of the moment, quick kiss, the kind you do to shut people up, because he wouldn't leave me alone, it was what he wanted, shouldn't I just play along? and when he asked for the types of pictures I couldn't fathom sending anyone, I played along, because I needed him to like me so I'd stop flirting with my best friend.

Don't talk about that.

Boys only like you for one thing. They don't care about you. How could you tell me that and then expect me not to fall in love with a girl who lets me borrow her books?

Don't talk about that.

I kissed the both of them. IT was a two a.m. game of spin the bottle, and I kissed them both. One tasted like sugar, the other like orange soda. I let them define me, and then we kissed again.

Don't talk about that.

Speaking in front of people was always hard, since second grade, but it got harder around when I started noticing girls again. But now I don't feel like I have to hide, and she's really pretty, and maybe I can like girls. But, no, no I can't, because they'll hate me, and they're the only family I have left.

Don't talk about that.

I've dated more guys than girls, kissed more girls than guys. I can't help it that they have softer hands, softer lips, softer thighs. I can't help it that I want to pin them to a wall kiss their neck, fulfill all those dreams that keep me up at night. That doesn't mean I don't think his smile is cute and his laugh is adorable-- I just can't get close to him without flinching every time he lifts a hand, thinking "he only wants to get inside me and tear me apart."

Don't talk about that.

But I have to!! I've been corrupted, tossed back and forth for thirteen years, left for dead, forced to don a mask and play the part, but I hate this role, I hate these people who shove bible verses down my throat and bury me in double standards and make me hate myself!

I fucking hate myself! Because of them! Look what they've done to me. Look at the mess I become in crowds, the stuttering, the inability to breathe when someone yells, the complete shutdown when sensitive topics are brought up. Look at the bursts of anger, the red hot lines down my arm where I tried to scratch through the skin as the world turned hazy and I couldn't breathe because he touched me where he shouldn't have and now I don't know what to do.

They've bred a monster. I'm sick in the head, rotten, worthless. But I still love the way she smiles, the way her hair floats in front of her face in the wind, the lilt of her voice when she sings. I love the curve of her throat when she laughs.

I want to fall in love, but I don't even love myself.