you won't understand the amount
of time i've wished that i was
deviant and broken.
i've always wanted to be unhealthy
and aberrant and abnormal
and sick.
maybe i am sick to be thinking
these things,
because have you seen the amount of
attention one gets if they were
different?
i'm just too plain of a sight
to be noticed and sadly i was
not made to be
disordered.
books just aren't good without
tragedies, are they?
and my tragedy is that i have
none.
YOU ARE READING
SWEAT.
Poetry❝I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam and no one in their right mind, would make my heart their home. my heart's an autoclave.❞ [oops i deleted some chapters]
