I'm the villain in this story

[prismaticbleed]

I can't take this anymore.

Suicide?
No. I still can't. Not with what I have to live for.
Selfish jerk, huh? I've been told I have nothing to live for. I've been told that what I do have to live for is worthless, delusional.
And yet I live on.
Why?

I don't know. Maybe I feel like I have something to prove.
Maybe I just want another chance.


Forgive us our sins
As we forgive those
Who have sinned against us


Why can I forgive the world
And yet I can't forgive myself?
I'll tell you why.
Because I deserve every single little wrong ever inflicted against me
No matter what my mind thinks
I'm a complete failure and I deserve all of it.
And so I can easily forgive them
"It's okay.
There's nothing wrong with this.
I can see why they're acting towards me in this way."
All my love goes out to them
So much of it... why am I capable of so much selfless love?
Because there's none for myself.

Is that a sin?
Honestly, is that really a sin?
To loathe oneself?
"Hate the sin, love the sinner."
They say that, and I do, but what if
I'm perfectly capable of not sinning anymore
And yet I keep screwing up anyway?

I keep a purple maniac in my head
Axe in hand, sexless in form and appearance
She keeps me under control
Most of the time.
Other times
Like tonight
The other girl breaks out of her back room
Where we locked her, hoping she would die
She comes after me with her malicious pink smile
And her corrupted feminine thoughts
Julie, we call her
Screws with my mind something terrible.

Then I swear to myself
You son of a b*tch, what the hell is wrong with you?
That I'm going to stop her once and for all
Fix everything that's wrong with me
Cut these off, tear this out, do whatever the heck I can think of...
If your hand causes you to sin
Cut the cursed thing off
If these are causing me to sin
Whether or not I want them to
I'll cut the cursed things out
I'll finally be me
I'll have my freedom.
I was not born to be a woman... I was not born to be a man.


I'm eighteen?
Seriously?
I can't stand ages
Years, stereotypes
If you're this old, you act this way
That's why I ignore my birth year
That's why I ignore my age
That's why I follow in the footsteps of my beloved monster
And say I'm ageless.
On the inside I really am.
Why can't I say so?
Because society doesn't know what the hell it's doing half the time.


Two choices, every time.
"Here, fill out this paper
And give it back to us."
Psychiatrist appointment... isn't that ironic?

First and last name... what do I write?
Do I write the false name my mother gave to me before she even knew who I was?
She named this body, she named this shell.
My soul has a different name.
But society doesn't recognize that
So what do I write?

Address.
Sure, I live in a house
But only physically
And it doesn't even feel like home.
My real home is some place out in the world
God only knows where
Maybe it's not even here
But it's bright and beautiful and it has no boundaries
No vices, no black burdens of humanity
Something separate and clear and real
No country, no state, no county, no street number
I can run forever and never have to stop
I can be free and I can forget this chained-down, tied up reality
Not bound to anyone or anything
I can forget it all and just start running
God's in his heaven and all is right with the world
That's where my home is.
It's there
But where is it?
I can't exactly write that on a form.


Male or female.
What the hell?
That one ticks me off every single time.
Some people are both.
Some people change their minds.
Some people
Like me
Are neither
And we don't get a choice on the bubble forms.
I can't exactly say that, either
And that's the most frustrating thing of all.

For heaven's sakes, I'm not a lesbian.
I'm not interested in women.
I'm not interested in men.
Biology disgusts me most of all
But I can't stand the stereotypes
The attitudes
The very idea of sex
And everything attached to it.
I want nothing to do with it
So I call myself a neutrois
I cut myself off from their categories
I start falling in love with asexual monsters
I like this life
But I'd like it even more
If they wouldn't scorn me for it
I'd like it even more
If I could let someone know that I was living it.


Nobody asks why I often wear an onyx ring in place of a wedding band.
They probably think
That I either don't know it's the default wedding finger
Or that I'm some bizarre mental person
That got married with a weird ring
When I didn't do either of those things.
I'm wearing a silver and onyx ring
Because it's the polar opposite of gold and diamonds.
I'm a celibate
I'm an asexual
I'm an antisexual
You all know what I am, I say it enough.
Three black gems, but no one ever asks why
I've loved every soul I've ever met
My life is for the Dream World
And I'm forever consecrated to God.
No one ever asks.
No one seems to care.


That and I keep screwing up.
Oh, I know we're all sinners
I bet the saints sinned too
But I can do better, can't I?
Can't I do something right?
When I resist temptation one morning
Why does it attack me and win that night?
This is happening almost every day now
I used to break down in tears
Sob my eyes out and pray to God
Now I just pray
And remind myself
As I silently deal out retribution
What an idiot I am.


"Don't you care what you're doing to yourself?"
Yes, I do
But days like this
How the hell do I fix it?
I try so hard and it doesn't seem to be working
I guess I'll just pray some more
Try a little harder
Because I refuse to let the darkness win
But it would sure help a hell of a lot
If I had enough money
To get a mastectomy
And a nullification.
Then I wouldn't have to remind myself how much I hated those
Every time I remembered that physical curse


Will they ostracize me?
Will my family throw me out?
Will the people that care for me stop caring?
Will I be shunned and banned from them all
Because I want all this surgery?
Will they reject and look down upon me
If I cut my hair
Dye it red
Buy white contacts and a gas mask
Start wearing suits all the time
With chest binders underneath?


Life is hard.


It's even harder when you don't fit the norm in the slightest
But have to live in it anyway
Because in reality
You're so far away from it
That it's going to take you ages
To get there.
But you'll get there
If it's the last thing you ever do
Because you refuse to lie to your soul
And ignore what your heart swears is the truth.
You refuse to give in to what they say you should do
You refuse to betray who you are
You refuse to let them kill you.

And yet there are so many martyrs in the world.


It's almost 1AM.
I need someone to talk to
Someone here
That will understand
Even a tiny bit
Someone here
That won't hate me for what I am
Or will at least try not to.
I can't talk to my mother
I'm too afraid of what she will do and say
I know that parents can be the most cruel judges to us strange ones
I'm afraid of her.
I might be able to talk to some of my friends
One of them, at least
But I'm not even sure on that.

I talk to God
I talk to Chaos
I talk to Selph
I need to talk to someone here, though
Someone here
Just to feel a tiny bit of love
Where I haven't felt much of it before

I didn't do, didn't do didn't do
I didn't do this for you
Didn't say, didn't say...

You never knew, never knew never knew
You never should, never should never should.

Is that the way it's supposed to go?
Should I keep quiet?
But I've been keeping quiet for so many years
I haven't said so many things
All these secrets
All these little things
That make me who I am
Nobody knows.
Do I say anything?
What do I say?

What can I say?

Am I damning myself with this
Or will this be my salvation?




I'm the villain in this story
And I'm tired of it.
I'm so tired.

Please... somebody save me from this.

Somebody
Anybody
Listen to me, please.

Just listen.


Let me know that someone cares.
Tell me that
Just because I'm so different
Just because I'm so alone
You don't hate me.

That's all I want
Just a little bit of love.


But do I deserve it?
Do I even deserve it?






I don't want to be the villain anymore
But when that's how the world sees you
Is there anything you can do?






I lost my way
Lost my way

My own mind.