There's only so far people can be pushed.

Recently a lot of very close friends of mine have started to change, and these changes seem irrevocable.

I can't see the appeal of these new people they are becoming, and I feel horrible for saying this. It's intolerably selfish to think this way, but I can't help but feel like I'm becoming so much flotsam to them, just something to be set aside.

After a while the world starts bleeding back and the cuts stay warm - so I fold myself around my belly, feel the comfort of the gashes and stop feeling so alone.

But I can't keep doing this. I look in the mirror at my flaccid belly, wobbling thighs

rendered with strawberry lines and wonder just how long this can continue before someone reaches out and grabs my hand with the scalpel and looks me in the face and tell me t0 stop...

Someone outside of this glass bubble I have built myself, that you all rise up around, like so much of a vacuum, and yet I can't see you

through this one way glass that I have branded onto my eyes.

What is it about teenage girls and talking about sex.

We've exhausted most of the alleys of conversation on this subject

but you haven't noticed. You continue on, a rotten construct consistently spewing out the same old verbal diaorrhea and I can't bear to listen anymore.

So I run away to quietly vomit, hoping that expelling this food inside my stomach will dispel the fear and hatred of you.

I love you so much, yet I'm so fucking angry that you're leaving me behind, yet aren't moving forward.

You wish to be so much older, you will not enjoy this part of your life, which makes me want to curl up and cry

Because I want so much to share this time with you but you're too busy discussing the merits of starting a brothel and selling your body for other people to hurt and violate.

You've gone wrong but I can't see a way to fix you, to give you back what we had...