Unclear Lines.

don't kill yourself. its what they whisper through their songs. everything will be alright. all your scars will heal, all your tears will dry. take a bath, and go to sleep. life goes on tomorrow. but does it? living without an identity. the only option is to conform. safety in numbers. food is more important than freedom. every day, walking up and down the halls. i can't remember their faces, only the makeup, ill-fitting pants, and bad haircuts. fat girls trying to make healthy choices, skinny girls acting like whores. boys who's mouths can only drool, not allowing any words to spill out. and the teachers who stand at the front. what do they know? they teach me what they have been taught, but it isnt the same as knowing. in truth, i know nothing. it feels like forever until i am unleashed, but only to move to a bigger cage. and then what? i know what i want. i cant have it. i'll have something different. something infectious and cruel. a 9 to 5 and stretch marks. instant potatoes and a mortgage. what life is that? dont kill myself. i won't. i refuse to live a suffocating life. in death my words can live on, more vibrant than i have ever been.