tears turned to ink

may 6, 2020

))12:52 am

today i washed my hair with the shampoo i brought to the hospital. it smelled like sorrow. it smelled like where i belong. i look in the mirror at the person who my soul resides in and the only thing i focus on is how much of a mess i have made of myself. my legs. they're covered from hip to knee in lines and shapes. i add onto my gallery so many times throughout the day that i've lost count. as i sit alone in my bathroom carving faces and lines and stars into my skin all i cam think about is how much easier life would be if my brain was wired right. if there wasn't a history of mental illness in my family. maybe if the people whose dna i hold werent so fucked up i would be okay. what did i do to deserve this i don't understand why i'm not fucking getting better. i've been home for a month and a half and i already have to go back to the hospital. it's like my second residence. what am i doing wrong? i woke up and took my pills every day. i cleaned my room and started eating more often. i kept up with hygiene and changed clothes every day. i did everything i was supposed to. why can't i just be okay. i don't wanna worry people anymore i don't wanna hurt or be hurt anymore. i want to live. i want to remember what it's like to be alive. that bitch in my mirror is ruining EVERYTHING FOR KIRRA. STOP BEING THE WAY YOU ARE KIRRA DESERVES TO BE HAPPY. YOU ARE JUST HER VESSEL STOP HURTING KIRRA LEAVE HER SKIN ALONE LET HER HEAL SHE WANTS TO BE HAPPY. i want to be happy. i'm kirra. i'm kirra i'm kirra i'm kirra. i don't resonate with the face i see or the body i feel but it's me. it's my flesh and my bones and my person. i am kirra. kirra kirra kirra kirra kirra kirra kirra kirra kirra. kirra can be okay. kirra will be okay. kirra. kirra doesn't need anyone. she can do this on her own. i am kirra. i think i need help but i don't i can do it i can i really can. i long for love and for people to care i fucking CRAVE to be a thought in someone's head but i don't need it. it's just the only thing i think about. every day when i wake up i wonder if you think about me. does anyone think about me? am i real? do i matter? (please think about me.) nobody is thinking about me. think about me think about me think about me think about me think about me think about me THINK ABOUT ME think about me please think about how my eyes shimmer in the light or how big i smile or how small and easy to hug i am. think about how soft my hair is or how loud i laugh or how often i scrunch my nose. think about my little hands or my chubby cheeks or the dimples i have when i smile. think about the gap in my teeth or my stupidly long legs or how small my neck is. think about the scars on my skin or how i sound when i scream or how cold i would be lifeless in your hands. i don't care as long as you think about me. make me real, please.