A Thing That Bleeds

its shedding season

You all know what that means

It's time to get out the loom.

Hopefully this year my skin actually fits

guess who just learned two Italian cuss words?

*gestures to myself*

This person!

I am so sick and tired of being the second choice.

I talk to you and introduce you to my friends! And what do you do?

You only ever talk to them.

But when you have a class with me and not them, I suddenly become your friend again!

You leave me out of group projects.

Even when theys said 2 or more.

Nobody ever chooses me.

I am the consolation prize.

Now you may say "I would choose you!"

But you haven't.

And you wont.

Stop with the lies please,

It makes me hope.

Me: *dehydrated as fuck*

Me: I don't wanna moveeeee

My brain: get water idiot

Me: I w I l l s u f f e r

The Crown of The Unwilling

My crown is one forged of blood.

Blood of innocents, criminals, lives that could not be saved, It is blood all the same.

However,

This crown forged of blood, Was not forged by me.

Rather it was forged, Then forced upon me.I

could not stop it.

They said

"You alone are worthy of this honor, Now you must earn it."

I thought it was to help, That I would be given a title to live up to. Something like a hero.

I was wrong.

They sent me to kill.

To destroy.

They told me

"These people whom you must end, Are terrible, Horrible, Monsters that would kill us all if left unchecked."

And like a fool, I believed them.

They told me I was a savior, Stopping the world's end!

They told me,

"This is your reward"

As they drained me of myself, My humanity.

My innocence.

When I next awoke, A crown lay on my head.

I was propped on a throne, Unable to move, Unable to speak, Unable to do anything at all.

Like a statue.

I was trapped there, Until she came along.

She did not need to hear my voice or words, To know I was unwilling upon this throne.

She saved me, She ripped the crown from my head, And cradled my limp body in her arms.

She told me

"You'll be alright, I promise it.

You won't die in such suffering, You will not die here."

And I stared at her, Tears rolling down my cheeks.

I was free.

I hope she does not blame herself.

I hope she doesn't mourn.

She could not look at me, She just hugged me, As tight as she could.

I took my final breath,

And the quietest,

"Thank you"

Brokenly echoed in the hall.

She gave me my freedom.

Now,I just hope she lets me go.

Help them

LGBT+ refugees in Gorom Camp, South Sudan, are currently facing hunger, no clean water or medical care, and daily threats. The war in Sudan has made things worse, and some of them are in hiding, are injured or have lost their lives.

Below is their mission statement

...

Dear friends

I am Frank Qum an LGBTQ person in a sudan refugee camp. I and my fellow LGBTQ refugees face a lot of challenges including homophobia, hunger, lack of medication, lack of bedding and so many other challenges.

We are aiming at raising 5,000 USD to cover all those expenses so that LGBTQ people can get essential necessities like pads, food, medication and bedding so that they aren’t pressured into prostitution. Anything you can give will be of much help towards our survival however small it may be.

We thank you for standing with us in this horrible and traumatizing situation.

yours faithfully

Frank Qum.

HELP THEM

@humanrightsdefenerz32

gofundme.com

Donate to Support Frank Qum and LGBTQ Refugees in Sudan, organized by Benji Stewart

Hello, my name is Benji. I was reached out to about two weeks ago by Fr… Benji Stewart needs your support for Support Frank Qum and LGBTQ

the balcony

(TW for suicidal themes at the end)

The balcony.

My most prominent memory is of the balcony, Leaning against the railing and staring longingly into the sea of stars above my head.

A whisp of a memory from when I was an infant, My mother holding me, Standing on the balcony.

No matter what had happened each day, I always found my way back to the balcony at its end.

My fifth birthday, My sixth, My seventh, All the way through my fifteenth, At every party, The balcony was where I hid.

I met my best friend there, My crush asked my out there, My mother died there.

And that is where I became queen.

Now, So much time has passed, A cycle at least.

Of which cycle I cannot tell, But it is much time nonetheless.

I stay trapped here, On this balcony.

The balcony where my life began, I am trapped.

But I cannot leave.

If I leave they will be forgotten, The people of the balcony memories.

If they are forgotten, They never existed at all.

I am trapped in this balcony.

This balcony where my life began, This balcony where it shall end.

And as I lay there, Looking up at the stars, with the balcony just barely in view, I wonder.

And I hope this will not happen anew.

just got hit with a wave of pain

L I f e s u c k s

yall know that one audio where a woman yells STEVEN in an Irish/Scottish (I genuinely cannot tell which) accent?

Imagine Danny and Damian's reunion goes like this:

At a gala (Danny is unfortunately vlads heir)

Damian: DANYAL!

Danny, freezing:

Damian: I thought you were dead!

(please tell me I did not hallucinate a whole audio)

the urge to spontaneously combust is great.

The call of food is *slightly* greater.