17

it feels as though my life is mercurial and cruel, it plays out slowly as it aids in the erosion of a girl who once had hope, ambition and a thirst for life who is now left directionless and stuck.

i used to be a natural and now the mundane tasks of life have become strenuous and mind numbing, my existence feels like a merciless inescapable reality in which the only desertion is to hold onto any form of delusion that things will get better even though most of the damage is irreparable.

through the facade of self confidence, fabricated charisma and quick witted humour i am scared that i’m doomed to be perpetually stuck within the mind of a teenage girl who thinks she has nothing to offer.
there is an internal monologue that never rests and creates a whirlwind of emotions that i have repressed so deep so that i can control the way i am perceived by others and maintain the image i have created under the guise of self assurance.

letting others disparage my character has eventuated in many nights of self reflection and questioning whether there is something fundamentally wrong with me, a rationalisation as to why nobody seems to stay in my life, because the alternative is that i am simply undesirable

i try my best to be smaller, take up less space. i’ve invested years of my life into this unrelenting battle to become the distorted version of beauty which i crave.
i wish to be liberated from the parasite that made its way into my adolescent brain and corrupted me before i knew any better.

i wish i could see myself through the lens that i view everyone else with, free from criticism and hostility.
i want to break free from the pure vitriol that i inflict upon myself because 17 isn’t the end.