nothing changes, nothing changes.

he's so numb, going into this place here nothing feels real. there's no one to ask, no one to talk him through. because it's the middle of the night when there's not a soul to trust and his half-hearted cries for help will go unanswered yet again. he's so alone in this bed. he keeps trying, trying to reach out, to make someone see just how much it's killing him to look in the mirror and not see the man he sees when he closes his eyes. it's unrealistic and society's bullshit, but it makes him feel whole to have that image of what he should be. he listens to societal norms, the only words that seem to be constant, whispering in his ear to drop a couple extra pounds (from where?), reminding him how alone he is (but it's only while they sleep), seducing him until the flaws are the only things he sees. he calls out, crying while he hops on the scale every morning. hoping maybe someone will reach out to meet him if the numbers keep slipping farther down, maybe someone will care. maybe if he keeps popping at them with pointless "hey"s they'll take a hint that he needs to talk. but it's not likely, he knows he belongs to himself, to the woes and imperfections. he's removed himself from the public, hoping to erase others' perception of his gender. if he's not there they can't call him "miss", they can't hurt him with "she"s or "her"s. if he's alone no one can touch him. if he's alone he can't hold in the river of tears threatening to drown him. it's a cruel cycle he lives in, somedays he doesn't see the point in bothering. it's all fun and games until somebody crumbles to pieces. <3 <3