B. L. W.

B: Because I am who I am, there is a lot of things I can, and cannot say. Being me isn’t something I’ve ever been proud of. Beautiful isn’t a word my brain will comprehend. Bewildered by the thought of being alone, doesn’t feel abnormal anymore. Becoming what I thought I needed to be, isn’t something that’s going to happen. Blooming into a lady turned into wilting away my sanity. Blisters forming onto my eyes as I slowly stop looking ahead. Butchering my feelings to keep myself safe for the moment. Building walls, to make sure you all stay away. Breaking down this wall is impossible. Blood flowing a bashful crimson, staining my memories of a happier time. Blowing away my regrets like a dandelion. Boiling inside, I’m boiling. Body is slowly starting to shut down, one twitch at a time. Bliss, it’s a word that makes me want to die.

L: Loving other people comes to me with ease, loving myself is the hard part. Losing everything I held dear is like watching a rerun of my childhood. Lowering my head to hide the shame and the sorrow. Lovely mother and daughters, discussing secrets. Letting go, forget all of it. Laughter is muted by fear and depression. Longing for affection, finding only half hearted smiles. Likelihood of getting better mentally. Lies, I’m a bad lair. L is a name that makes me cry.

W: What have you done little girl. When did you plan on telling them. Where did you hide the scars. Why won’t you stop fucking crying. Will you get a grip, they never cared. Worry about the mess you plan on making. Won’t back out. White lies. Welcoming death, regardless.