My Body My Carcass

So you know the phrase:

"It gets better."

Well, for me...... it doesn't.

At least....... not yet.

Or maybe building so slow that even a tortoise outruns it by thirty miles.

Always the same.

Up and down emotions.

Skyrocketing then plummeting.

Every day. Over the course of my existence.

And how many times I've been told "it gets better."

They were all wrong, gaining emotional abuse three to four times as bad.

All piling up. The lies. The slander. The hate. The disgust.

You're weird.

You're ugly.

You're stupid.

You're bland.

Ignorant. Selfish. Lazy. Good for nothing. Fat.

Crammed together in my mind.

Locked away in my brain until later at night.

Well past midnight.

When mom's asleep and sis the same.

Silent tears. No sound. No words. Just feeling.

Feeling of never being good enough.

Feeling of being no one special.

Feeling so mediocre.

Cold and lifeless after the tears dried up.

The next day comes and a smile appears from nowhere.

Just for show. To let people know I'm okay.

Can they see that my eyes cry out to them?

Call to them for help?

A friend asking me if I'm okay and replying with the same bland response.

I'm fine.

Continue smiling.

My body, my carcass.

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