I did not choose this

Why would I ever want this?

To torture myself

And rip my heart from my chest

Just to watch myself die.

They think I’m sadistic

That I do this just for attention.

To wish my body reflected my soul

And your words accepted my truth.

Their cruelty stabs me

They go through the organs I wish

Didn’t dictate how people see me.

Would it be better to rip them from my body?

And watch them rot and wither?

Would it be best to let them kill me over and over?

And that they do, in a way

Their lack of empathy kills me

Words can heal my wounds, just as they can tear them open again.

Heal, then rip, soothe, then slash

What should I do if this carries on?

How much longer can I take this bashing?

Would death be a release?

Would death be mercy?

Please, release me from this torture!

I perished, but sadly, failed to die