“Where’s your phone?”

_Shit_. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, so I took it to bed with me last night.”

“You know that’s not our policy.“

- - -

Of course not.

No, our policy is “perfect.”

Our policy is “a B+ is going to screw over your life so if she pressures you obviously your grade will go up.”

Our policy is “don’t talk about liking girls unless you’re explaining why you didn’t share about your girlfriend.”

Our policy is “you’re not allowed to have even the slightest doubt in yourself unless it’s because she’s telling you that you need to do better.”

Our policy is “perfect.”

Well guess what?

I’m not perfect.

This one thing was all that I wanted.

A little bit of piece of mind before I go to sleep.

I’ve been doing so well.

It’s been a while since I thought I was better dead.

I haven’t even tried to hurt myself recently.

And every night, I wonder if that’s wrong.

Every night, I claw at the darkness in my head as it tells me to _go back_.

But I haven’t.

I’ve been doing so well.

If a few cute YouTube shorts

And a few bad webtoon episodes

Are what it takes for me to remember how to smile,

Don’t you think that’s worth it?

No, you don’t.

Because I’m “perfect.”

Because that’s our policy.

Well, _my_ policy is “fake it.”

My policy is “pretend you’re fine while you sew up the cracks in your smile.”

My policy is “find secret ways to relieve the pressure - like scissors or your phone.”

My policy is “if they don’t think you’re good enough, you probably aren’t, so you better find a nice distraction.”

My policy is “it’s fine if nobody knows.”

My policy is “fake it.”

It was nice while it lasted.

It was nice thinking I had this one (safe) way to control my head.

Tell me, would you prefer the other way?

The way that leaves me crying alone,

Mesmerized by scarlet petals blooming on my skin?

I wouldn’t.

I would give anything to not go back there.

But every single time I find a new solution

It backfires,

Comes back to hurt me worse than if I didn’t try at all.

I guess I’m better at hiding blood stains than a phone.

You don’t trust me with technology, but you can trust me with sharp objects, right?

What would you worry about, cause I’m “perfect,” right?

Of course.

Because that’s our policy.