I don’t give a shit.
Nothing touches me.
I smear on makeup never worn before. Taint my skin & dirty my eyes.
Angry at the world, untouchable.
My boyfriend won’t like this but fuck that.
He asks if I still have hair, because it matters to him.
Angry at norms and expectations.
I am restricted by regulations.
I wonder if my anger grows from my depression, insidiously twisting towards others.
I try not to lash out.
Friendships recede into the past, good times setting over the horizon.
I wonder if I will see them again.
Is this adulthood? Are these the celebrated college years?
I try hard not to fixate on the daydreams about my death.
Sometimes I believe I am to blame.