Just like my soul...no but this shit is fuckin dark as hell and not made for everyone

I'm never going to be okay. I'm a monster. I'm a nobody. I just will never be good enough for no one. I am a mistake. I am a fuck up. I dont  want just "I'm sorry" or "you'll be okay" no I'm not. Stop joking about me.

My aunt maybe having cancer isn't a laugh about. She has the most amazing boy who has autism that loves me with the most love and cares about me no matter how fustrated I get, he is always pushing me forwards. No matter how I wanted to fucking quit that goddamn game he made me play on, he said I could do it. And I'm sorry for the boy. He is just as a mess as I am. One reason to stay alive.

His brother is always busy. But that's because of the age I guess. Being a young man and all. He seems to love me from a distance. He morely likes my brother. Everyone does.

I'm just not good enough.

I'm like a fuckin younger version of a monster. I look like my mother. I hate looking in the mirror. Remebering who i hate sometimes. Who is a mess of a mess. I hate it. Can't even cover it with makeup, ever. It just looks like I'm overdoing it.

Im just a fuckin druggie whore to some people. My grandmother says that if I wear what I like or so..."Jazmine, you don't want to get more looks then you get, don't you? You're asking for trouble, why do you do that? You have enough on your plate." No...I'm not a whore. A whore does it for attention. They do it to get some. I am wearing what I like and it's not even that bad. Nope, I'm the whore. A fucking school approved dress is fucking whorish. A druggie is what my mother thinks I am. "You seem off, I don't know if you are out doing drugs or what!" I barely go outside and all my friends ditched me. All I do is watch time melt away.

"I don't understand why you want to be pan then being normal, you're just adding on to your problems....maybe your mother made you turn out queer." No grandmother, I am normal. Eating mattresses as an addiction is not normal. I am perfectly able to do daily things and understand things perfectly fine. I'm not a fucking mutant for being queer. My mother? No, if my mother's bullshit made me queer...ha, I'm sorry but feelings made me queer, not my mother. She barely was painted in the fucking picture in my head of being pansexual. I like who I want to like. Do you really care who I'm with or sleep next to? Or like fucking hurts you in a way? No, I don't fucking think so.

I'm numb.

"No, I'm fine, just a bit tired."

Did I ever responded to you like that? It was a lie. I always lie at this point. Fuck it. I was never fine.