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.