My skin is flaky,

My hands are shaking.

It's right there.

And yet I don't _want _to touch it.

But I'm being screamed at anyway

Like my nervous system will collapse

So I do.

And then I turn the faucet on.

And try to remember what the books told me,

How to distract myself

But I can't.

And I feel like-

_I'm going to die. _ And sometimes, I wish I could carve out my brain, Smash it against the wall Hey, does that count as a lobotomy?

No I don't want to "have fun" Go in public Overthink. I don't want to force my eyes open each night, Curled up in the corner of my bed- Because who knows what'll happen it I touch the rest of it. And I'm cold. But I'll get sick if I go near my blanket.

I don't want to have fun

I don't want to die

I want my brain to shut up.