and you just don't get it

and so?

what do i do with this same feeling that i always get. what do i do with a new situation and tiredness of it all. what do i do with my head and my body and my emotions. and how do i make it stop. how do i get my best friend to actually talk to me anymore and stop telling other people to stay out of it, shouldn't i be the one telling people to stay out of it? all i've ever wanted to do was just sit down and have a nice conversation with you like we used to. the good conversations. but apparently people don't want to touch me again, so be it, i've been contemplating letting go of it all for a while now. someone has to help but no one can help... not help when i walk into an empty room and there's no one in the hallways, no one outside, no one to see. same thing different place, but this time i'm right across from a hospital, and that's probably a good thing. classes and classes and class hasn't even started yet. too bad i'm so pathetic. ah well. how do you tell doctors that you hate eating and being around groups of people, hate conflict and yelling, how do you tell someone that there's no future, or that the world really is bad, and there really is nothing we can do to change it, short of killing ourselves? no one understands me to the point where they think that i'm just making it all up. where cutting is a problem only because other people say it's a problem. where the only truth that could possibly get their attention is that i do think about killing myself, every single day. but without any previous attempts or visible scars they just will say you're too stressed, go out and get drunk have fun. doctors who really don't give a shit that you've been hormonally unbalanced since they took out your fucking ovary, that everything that happens is all because of your fucked up body. no, no, get out, get some exercise, stop dwelling on it and you'll magically feel better, because we have no idea what we did to you when you were a baby... no idea how it affected you. i just keep hoping that one day i'll have to have a histerectomy.

a mirror reflecting an empty room, a broken person. what is pleasure? what is safety? what is happiness? red lines in skin, like red silk flowing by.

and no one even knows.