the miserable life of a miserable teenager

they feel more lived in.

I prefer messy hair,

it feels more accurate.

I prefer chipped nails,

they look filled to me.

Draw on my hands and arms,

because I’m not allowed tattoos.

Also according to my therapist “externalizing” something…NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

This isn’t a “not like other girls” speech,

more just not like respected humans.

At least the ones I’m surrounded by.

Maybe in hell, I’ll get to be me.