Rotting inside my own flesh

I don’t know how I feel and it bothers me          
I don’t know how I feel but I think that I feel sick          
Sick of myself and sick of everyone else          
          
I don’t know          
Myself          
Or anyone          
Or anything          
I just know that sometimes I find it hard to exist  
yet when I go for a walk and deeply breathe in I find it easier to live          
           
Why does responsibility scare me so much?          
Why do I feel like I'll break down and cry whenever I get an assignment of any kind?          
Am I incompetent or lazy?          
What if I’m both?          
Could I handle living life if I didn’t have a reason to boast?          
But the thing that hurts me the most          
Is that everything in my life is perfect          
Everything          
Everything except me          
And it bothers me          
           
It worries me whenever I feel ill          
Whenever I feel like smashing my head against a wall          
And when I crave for my head to burst          
It makes me want to fucking curse          
I yearn for my head to split open and spill this awful brain of mine          
           
And I am frustrated          
Frustrated with myself and the way life can be a living hell                
           
I know that I have to find happiness for myself in what I do and how I live but I find happiness to be unattainable, fleeting as it is          
My life is so good and I don't understand why I feel the way I do          
I feel like I should be more grateful for things          
And experiences          
And people too          
But I find that so hard to do          
No matter how good it is I always want more and I always want to leave          
           
Internet overwhelms me          
I just think of all the wonderful things I won't ever get to see or read and some kind of dread overcomes me          
I cannot describe how meaningless everything feels when I realize that I'm missing out on so many pointless things          
I don't care that they're pointless and unimportant!
I still want to see and read everything!!          
I still want to experience it all but when I realize that's impossible deep down in depression I fall          
How goddamn awful I feel whenever all of my realizations about this cold blue planet hit
They hit me like a truck and run me over twice just to make sure I lose all sign of life          
I couldn't be fixed even if you put me in rice          
           
And when nighttime falls I'm not tired anymore
And all the shadows and shapes bother me          
But when I close my eyes they are all that I see          
I just want to sleep but I can't because it's so difficult to rest in my bed          
It's a coffin and my room is a morgue in which my body and mind rot          
I rot behind closed doors          
And I rot beneath my skin          
My bones and teeth hurt and the scary thing is that I'm not scared at all          
           
I just want to be free from my overwhelming mood swings          
As I write this stupid thing I’ve already gone from desperation to joy and all the way to glee          
But no for real          
A sweet friend messaged me and now I'm all giddy inside          
How is it possible to feel so much in so little time?          
God it makes me want to die!!!          
Jesus christ I did it again          
I went from joyful back to my dread          
And the funny thing is it only took a couple of seconds          
This shit makes me want to laugh          
God look how pathetic I am
         
I feel like if I don't kill myself by the time I'm thirty I have failed          
I was not made to be old goddamn          
           
I took a vacation and I felt I wasn't my old self
Which is fine, it really is          
I'm a different person in the same skin          
Sometimes that feels weird          
It really does, but it doesn't bother me as much as the questions looming in my head, killing all of my brain cells until I'm dead          
Why do we breathe? Why do we sleep? Why do we do anything?          
I think I might be mentally ill          
Jk I would never think that          
It’s just that intrusive thoughts are on a constant loop inside my head          
Please shut uppppp you stupid stupid thoughts
You make me want to cease my already pointless breathing and jump off a tall building just to endlessly fall until I can feel nothing at all          
           
And another fact that upsets me way more than it should is that my sleep-deprived state fuels my will to write          
Words pour out of me and it's comical how fast I can type          
My fingers and wrists hurt yet I cannot stop          
I can't simply because I don't want to          
It's in my nature to do only as I please and listen to no one as people scream advice in my ears
Go outside! Have fun with your friends! You should live a little and let loose before it all ends!

I just stare at them blankly as I think about how my back is killing me          
I feel like I'm eighty years old but I haven't even reached twenty          
Why do I still have such a long way to go?          
What will become of me in a few years I fear to know          
Yet a part of me still wants to          
I want to see if I'll have a job that I like and if I will be good at it          
I want to see if I will ever fall in love          
I don't think I will and I don't believe I can, but who knows anything can happen          
           
And don't yall find it funny that I almost always seem to rhyme?          
Why does my brain work like this? I feel like a child in middle school whenever I write          
Sometimes my own thoughts make me feel so dumb          
They make me wonder if I ever had a comprehensive thought          
Apparently not          
My train of thoughts is so wiggly and strange that adjectives like weird and unusual don't even come close to describing it          
And BAM! I'm thinking of suicide again          
How did that happen? Someone, please explain          
You know what? Next topic bitch!            
Because I can't stand thinking of cutting my own wrists          
No, not anymore...because it makes my blood fucking BOIL!!!          
           
Why does my brain have such a messed-up thinking pattern?          
And the thing about patterns is that they repeat. Yeah, no shit          
A freaking loop of agony is what my life is          
I live inside this loop that is killing me, and it makes my skin itch every time I think of it          
No for real I just had to scratch my shoulders and my back          
Because that's just how fucking irritated I am!       
           
Why doesn't money make me happy anymore?
It used to do such a good job          
It brought me more joy than any drug ever could
The only thing I needed was to look pretty and feel nothing at all          
It always worked and solved any problem I had

But it also fucked me up so bad that now I don't know how to process any of my emotions  
I simply don't know what to do whenever I feel all bubbly inside          
Or whenever I feel so sad that I feel the need to cry          
Funny thing is that I CAN'T!          
I lost that ability when I stopped thinking straight!          
Oh, and did I mention I was gay? Yeah that happened          
           
What happened to me??? Why do I find it so hard to spill tears?          
Sometimes I am so apathetic that it makes me want to SCREAM!!!          
No tears left to cry? Was Ariana right?          
She must have been on something when she wrote that line          
It rings true for me and it makes me sing          
Just kidding of course. It rhymed and my fingers slipped          
I don’t sing          
Well not Ariana at least, wink wink          
Nothing wrong with her I just find that there are better tunes than hers          
           
Oh, and have I mentioned my new job?          
And how cool it is. How pathetically easy it is.          
I don't know whether to laugh or cry but whatever, alright.          
The only thing I don't like about my surprisingly fun desk job is all the men staring at me          
Or my ass more precisely          
My ass isn't even that fat, what the actual heck are they looking at???          
They must be gay          
I'm just kidding of course          
But damn I would be lying if I said they didn't drive me up the wall          
They always have my business up their nose          
Thank god I don't have to see them every day because they're simply gross              
           
But take what I say with a grain of salt          
It’s just that I feel manic and I haven’t slept at all          
I haven’t slept for two days          
The longest I managed was four          
Don’t ask me how I did it because I don’t know          
And a fun fact about me is that I don’t drink coffee
I live on water and milk, and meat disgusts me                   
I just caught a glimpse of my nails and I must admit-- they’re actually really pretty          
I’ll put them in my pussy          
HA! This is yet another joke because I cannot touch myself          
Sex is pretty gross and I pity every person that did it with me          
A pillow princess is my second identity          
They always get so excited to touch me but I feel nothing at all          
I just lay there no more alive than a corpse          
I can move, but I don’t          
It’s not even that I don’t know what to do it’s just that I simply don’t want to          
Ten minutes is enough for me whenever they have their hands all over me          
I just want to go home and scrub away all of the dirty feels          
I’m not a prude, I just don’t like how dirty sex feels

God this makes me sound so weird          
But then again what doesn’t          
I’m sure everybody will hate me after this but I simply cannot care          
If I did I would lose all of my hair

Life used to make sense but now it just feels like a videogame without the luxury of infinite live
But that’s ok since I don’t want to die if I’ll keep coming back          
Reincarnation doesn’t sound as fun as being dead          
And if god sends me to hell I simply won’t go
When I see him I’ll punch him in the face or kick him in the balls        
He deserves a good smack for making such a messed up thing as myself          
           
Oh, how I yearn to be dead          
Death doesn’t scare me as much as it should
I eluded it’s hands too many times to be scared of it          
When it comes for me I’ll say goodbye to my brother, dogs, and things          
I’ll leave this shithole and be at peace