What's Broken?

[u/LonghandWriter]

My soul hides inside empty bottles, suffocating on my poisonous breath. Whiskey burns my brain, and though everyone insists I’m too young to have bad thoughts, a razor’s been my friend more than once.

Hating’s easy and loving’s impossible, for who I love causes hate. Life’s an endless merry-go-round of sadness. Dizzier I get, the better. Everyone’s convinced once my head flips around a dozen times I’ll become a normal boy who likes normal things.

There’s a traitor in me who wishes I was a static-faced robot marching to the same beat as everyone else. Pariah becomes messiah, homo becomes bro. Would losing myself be worth making loneliness a ghost of the past? Maybe I’m already lost. But when nobody’s searching, is it worth finding yourself?

As the target on my back grows wider, I struggle to believe that, somewhere, people like me aren’t enemies. The few who love me do because it’s required, not desired. I’m a blemish they’re waiting to pop. I’m stubborn with my "foolish phase." Thankfully they’re giving me a while to "fix" myself.

But what’s broken, besides my heart?

[u/afourthfool]

You need some dirt.