tw: suicidal imagery

my mismatched eyes and my ragged clothes

The ugly, gaping

Scar

Their painful gaze and stinging words

Their lovely, dreamy

Eyes

Can the hurt of rejection

Pierce through like a knife?

I feel it deep in my chest

Pulsing, like a heartbeat

And with every pump

My useless, grotesque body

Is filled up with life

Once more

I imagine my death

Whenever I sneeze

And my heart stops

For a trembling moment

I imagine it as I count the seconds

Between my breaths

And yet they sneer, they laugh

They point, they shout

They cry, they scream

Their rage

At my existence

So I sit

On the outer circle

Of rejection

I count the stars and the blades of grass

I wonder,

If I might join them, someday