Anonymous, Infectious Cancer

My chest is heavy with regret and anxiety, pumping blood laden with fear, thick like lead. At some point, busy becomes petrified and motionless and unproductive in this vicious cycle. I need a break. I need to breathe, but I know I won’t for awhile. I trust myself, but maybe I’ll jinx it. I always seem to make it work, faithful me, reliable me, satisfied in hindsight, but ever toiling in the heat of it.

It doesn’t come down like a ton of bricks. That would be too easy. It weighs down slowly, something within yourself — inescapable.

There’s something fundamentally frustrating about adolescence. I think I’ll look back on this and be proud. I hope I will. I hope I look back and wonder, “How did I get through that?” It’s shocking that other people don’t have the same experience. That some girls get through this part of their lives without simmering constantly, without chasing stupid things and searching, always searching for something that hurts just right. I’m shocked that anyone is able to keep a level head all this way.

God, I am so dumb. And that’s not a bad thing. Just my nature. I only wish I had time to be dumb. To delve. To fuck up my brain chemistry. To study myself, my biology. Things they won’t teach me.

I am an infectious cancer  pathetic.


It’s a a silent, passive-aggressive cry for help. I am an attention whore. All wound up and no where to go. No point in integrity when I have no identity. No point in dignity when you’re anonymous. Might as well bear my grimy teeth, stained with no blood but my own. Might as well shake my mane in an animal display of abandon. I have no name, no reputation to uphold, no identity. Behind closed doors, I am the worst of filth. No sense of self-preservation. 

I’m thinking of becoming a bum.

Forget about social norms and responsibility. I want to be seen but not held accountable for what I display. Ever impractical. Immature, overgrown child. If only I had as much interest in chasing truth and knowledge as I do for putting chemicals into my body. Then I might amount to something.

Talk to me.

2 thoughts on “Anonymous, Infectious Cancer”

  1. I am ever so interested in what you’re chasing exactly, and who you are behind closed doors.

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