i hate myself and want to die (by nirvana)A Poem by dramaminerandom thoughts. unedited.i feel everything too loudly and too much. over analyzing the subtle glances and careful steps. my mom tells me to keep the mouth inside my brain shut. but nothing is ever that easy. it's not a matter of "just letting go" or "stopping my heart from exploding." i know i'm difficult and you can't take it but i don't like myself that much either. and i'm just trying not to dig my chipped fingernails into my veins and remove the bones from underneath my "unattractive" powdery skin. maybe you could use my corpse as spare parts. throw me in the junkyard and use me to build another hopeless teen. just don't forget to bury my teeth. after you drown my body in a tub of acid. i'm bitter and cynical and old at sixteen. but if i let my compassionate side show they'll label me as weak. darling they're gonna rip me apart with their automatic rifles and perfectly manicured claws. but they'll soon feel my anger wrapped up in three sugary layers of kindness like a bullet straight to the throat. they all just wanna see me choke. i just can't keep going on like a ghost vying to find Heaven in those chestnut eyes of his, considering that the subject matter of my last 5 poems doesn't even know i exist. even though i followed his face on instagram and liked a picture of his dog. my head is full of obsessive compulsive thoughts. that little pocket mirror is yelling at me again. saying my nose resembles squidward's and all of that good s**t. but unfortunately i can't fix what i was born with. i calmly whisper for it to shut up but nothing ever listens to my squeaky voice. my body can't handle my scattered and neurotic thoughts anymore. i can't breathe. and my fingers are pulling apart at the seams. i'll ask again: are they really any better than me? i'm lonely and sad and horny. i just want somebody to adore me but until then at least i have my left hand. is he thinking about the heavy black eyeliner smudged against my baby face? or am i giving myself too much credit again? i think my mom was right. i just need to let go of the idea of his slender fingertips brushing past my lips and stop suffocating inside the plastic bag i tied around my own head. © 2016 dramamineAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthordramamineThe ShireAboutYou can call me Twiggy.I'm just a 16 year old girl. With no friends so I spend my time writing s****y tales, poetry, and listening to music. I hope to one day become a musician and you know start a ba.. more..Writing
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