my one and own.

he's sliced away at his skin over and over, leaving it to be almost a kink ritual at times, a catholic-like self beating at others. he's punished himself for hurting those he's least wanted to hurt, giving way to stupid decisions. he's been to places that the only way to feel the least bit sexual was biting through flesh with cool metal, letting the sting overtake him. he's been to places where full meals made him hate his body, where the scale flashing up 106lbs at him had him throwing off layers of clothing to be sure his actual weight did not exceed his metal number. he's cried himself to sleep with an empty stomach as he watched the numbers go up and down each passing day. he's stared into the mirror and picked apart every piece of his reflection. he can't say he's been happy about any of it. he's been battling his body for years. the temporary peace treaty has expired and he's falling, losing, running into retreat. he sees her in her own battle and tries to abandon his own to help her but his own battle starts to gain on him until he's drowning in the fight. he's so done with the fighting, yet the relief troops never come. maybe it's time to run from the fight, take her hand and head into the woods where the dissatisfaction with body image doesn't become an issue. it sounds like such a nice way to live, but he just can't bring himself to abandon the efforts he's put into learning to deal with civilisation. he'll just keep on floating in-between decisions, fighting because he knows no other way.  <3 <3

the silence.

some days he wonders about the people who, for a moment, where the only other person in the world. he wonders about those who he's shared late-night conversations about nothing, glimpses from across crowded sky trains, stories of every bit of their lives. and he hopes they're happy. maybe they too think of him sometimes, remember him just a little, possibly ask themselves "I wonder what he's up to now". but who is he kidding, the people never wonder the way he hopes they do, they never glimpse back on the pointless moments that meant everything to him. he's a time capsule never meant to be opened, only kept for the sake of collecting.  the hallways feel empty even at their most crowded from all the new faces without a place inside him. he's trying to place one foot in front of the other, get from A to B, but the walls are intricate. the metal walls that get thrown up every time he tries to do something new, learn concepts those plenty other faces light up with every day. he'll be okay, somehow, he's always made it through. now he has a reason to try.  <3 <3 

keep holding on.

he could spend his whole life being beaten down and never get used to it. it's even worse when things seem to be going pretty well and then BAM, shit happens. that feeling he wouldn't wish on anyone. when he feels so stupid and useless and like nothing even matters if he's alive, yet he keeps getting beat down until he's ready to throw the towel in and that bitch knows all the right ways to get to that point quicker. he's trying to man up, pretend it doesn't hurt, stay strong, but it physically pains him so that he can't even function anymore. all he asks for is a little pain medication and some love, just to feel wanted.  then she goes and makes his day, makes things seem almost okay as long as he gets to see her soon. as long as she is his and he is hers. as long as he can hold her.  <3 <3 

I'm so tired.

first day of college and he's ready to cry. it's not the work, it's not the long days, it's not the school plus two jobs plus night school. it's the dealing with so many new people at once, it's the being on the bus every day, it's the not being able to see her as much as he'd like to. he's so sick of being away from her. he just wants to be able to fall in love without hurdles being thrown at him from every angle. he just wants a little bit of time during the week to see her.  with so many schedules he's not even sure when he's free to do anything, he's confused and he doesn't quite know what to do about it. he's so tired of having to live by schedules, he just wants to break free and let life happen how it wants to. it's too much to handle to have it all going on at once.  <3 <3 

somebody rip my heart out.

in the morning he starts college, in the morning he has the first day of the rest of his life. he doesn't know how to deal with the morning. he isn't sure what to wear, who to be, where to go on his break, how to survive. every second he spends thinking about it is a second he could be out doing something about it, yet he sits and ponders the whole world. he's scared, more of the change and the unknown than the coursework. if only he could turn back time and enjoy his childhood like he should have, live every moment free before being strung down by many people. in a generation trying to grow up too fast, only to find out the best parts of life were the ones they were in a hurry to be rid of, he's finding out just how much he's missed out on. the world begins to fade away, not quite making sense of the nonsense.  <3 <3 

but baby I'm trying.

three months. she's let him grace her with the privilege of being her boyfriend for three months thus far and he's so drunk off her he can't even tell which way is up. every time he breathes her in he's holding her scent in his lungs, hoping to never have to go without her in his arms. she is his angel, his rock, his love, his everything. he wants to be there for her and protect her 24/7, even if she doesn't feel like she needs protection. his manpride is at stake, begging to stand up for her at all costs, begging to smother her in presents and affection. he can't help but to want it all for her, he wants all her dreams to come true. most of all, he wants many more months, years to call her his and to be called hers. this is only the beginning, he could quite possibly love her through thick and thin, till death do us part. it's terrifying, exciting, amazing.  <3 <3