i am built for harsh weather and dazzling violence
i can dry swallow antidepressants
and go days without eating
silent cry on the train
i abhor sunlight
and change my name on impulse for the 6th time in three years
spent $120 on stiletto acrylics just to press their sharpness into my own palms
(hot girl stigmata)
when the walls start whispering expressions of disappointment
i crawl into the closet with my pistol
sleep sitting up
(this is my paranoia – there are many like it but this one is mine)
my room is adorned with ornamental mirrors so when the big earthquake comes
the last thing i’ll see before everything goes dark
are glittering reflections of god and myself
in everything
he’s the biggest collection of red flags i’ve ever seen
but i’m wearing rose-tinted glasses
everything is a little bit red
so i give him my number anyway
now i’m on the train and letting my intrusive thoughts win
whiplashed from waves of self-obsession and self-loathing
i’m terrified of acting like my father
sorry for my instability
it’s probably just a character defect
all i have to offer are my cluster b and totally fuckable vibes
i’m not a girl
i’m an angel with a gun
