i love you, i love you, i love you
MC, i know i don't say it enough
and you're falling apart faster than we can put you together
i see you in myself,
the blind terror and scramble to tape ourselves together
i'll be honest here,
blunt like the baseball bats we dragged on the grass as children
you're not skeletal anymore,
but you're thin and you eat tons upon tons of junk food,
slide chocolate and chips and pop down your throat like you're a bird
swallowing your sins in sugar
and you never gain a pound
still stay thin and athletic and i-
i am not.
i am many things,
many broken and bad things,
but i am none of your things.
my body's soft and cushioned,
rounded edges and blurred outline
and i hate it
maybe i resent you just a little bit.
because i hate myself
and my curves make dysphoria swell in the well of my mouth
and i've learned to hold it back
swallow it back down
to lie uneasy in my stomach
but you don't care about anything, MC.
i care too much
and you care too little
depression's your poison,
the pills you drown yourself in
i can spell it
mouth it with my lips
like you'd gain points for a correct "hibiscus" in a spelling bee
so i know it's not me,
in the back of my head,
bouncing like a rubber ball on white walls,
i know it's not me.
i'll admit that doesn't help much, though.
we're both ill and dancing around each other
steps rehearsed and stumbling
and you know one day we'll trip and crash and burn.
you're just waiting for the flames
and i'm waiting for the ash.