I found glitter inside my pocket, and it's not mine.
The familiar turns inside my stomach are eating me alive as my mother drives me to school. It's been two months since I stepped foot into that hell hole, and now, even if I'm not even sure of being ready to go back, I guess this is the way I die.
Two months. It was an eventful two months of glitter. My tears are made of glitter as I hear my mother screaming from the other side of the door. Glitter scattered on my bedsheets as I play a familiar Blood Orange song. Glitter flying in the air as I jump along from one conclusion to the next. Glitter. Glitter. Glitter. It enters my nose and poisons my soul. It feels good, but it's only temporary.
I know this isn't the way to getting better, but for the record, this feels okay at the moment, so I'll stick with it for a while.
The school bathroom was as scary as it was on the horror movies when I entered with the lights off. Pieces of glitter left by my footsteps, I walk to the farthest cubicle to let out the rest of the glitter. It came through my nose and bled through my eyes. Glitter. Glitter. Glitter. I see eyes from the other side of the wall. They see the glitter, but they don't see me.
I found glitter inside my pocket, please don't call the cops, because it's definitely mine.
- "Glitter", September 10
YOU ARE READING
Seventeen
شِعرLetters about the highs and lows of my seventeenth year of life. [EXPLICIT CONTENT, possibly. Please read this at your own risk. If you are struggling with your own personal stuff, please do not hesitate to seek out for help. My dms are always open...
