social anxiety

trigger warning: self harm

don’t fucking talk to me. because i’m a weak little girl, and i was made to be lonely. and because other people are pretty much just there to attack me, or hurt me, or take my life. take my money. 

it doesn’t matter anymore. because the churning in my stomach means i’m pretty much your property. and high school sucks, and i know they’re not going to hurt me, but most of these people are pretty huge idiots. with big shoulders, and booming voices. and most of the time, i feel pretty fucking pointless.

so here i am, waiting in the bathroom stall for you to leave me alone. because for whatever reason, my existence disgusts me. and i don’t want you to know…

so don’t fucking wave at me. or compliment my haircut. because i probably look awful. and this entire thing is stupid.

and i hate not wearing my sleeves rolled up, but i just cut myself, and i don’t want you to know, so. here i am. hiding in a bathroom stall, like cornered prey. letting my eyes slip closed.

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