Trigger warning: self harm

They packed us onto a train
Early Sunday morning
For four hours.
We laughed,
My friends and I,
For the whole time.
When we got to the station,
They loaded us onto a bus
And played old hits,
Pop songs I’d forgotten,
And we sung
And laughed the whole way.
But it was fake
Because at home
I knew
There was a weapon
For me
And I hated the fact
That I was missing it.
I made mistakes
Over those days.
I know that,
Looking back.
I told them
How I hurt myself
And I felt
That they thought was just
An attention seeking
Whore.
And when I said
To May and Vera
That I was enby,
May was good.
She offered to help me
In buying a binder,
But Vera
Just thought
That I thought
That I
Was a ‘special snowflake.’
I guess she doesn’t know
How it feels.
On the last day
I took the knife
From the draw
And hid it
Under my pillow.
And that night
I scratched
Till I was sure I’d bled,
But next day
All I had
Was bruises.