writer (c.a.l.m 5sos ot4) (boyxboy)

❁9❁

i've given up on you - real friends

*possible trigger warning*
*self harm* *suicidal thoughts implied*

Luke stood in the shower, letting the, now icy cold, water run down his back as he contemplated what he would do.

Leaving the shower on, Luke clambers out of the shower as quickly as possible. He hurriedly dried himself off with shaking hands as he rummaged through the cabinet.

Luke wanted to scream. Where the hell is his lighter? He finally stumbled upon something else; a box of matches. That would have to do.

He laid the towel on the floor, sitting down. He shakily opened the box, disappointed to see there were only a few left. Luke took one out, striking it against to edge of the box, only for it to refuse the light.

Luke pulled at his hair in frustration, taking another one out as quickly as possible. He nearly screamed in annoyance when it fell from his fingers. He needed to feel physical pain to distract himself from his inner agony.

He picked the match up again, this time successfully striking it, making a flame bloom.

Luke carefully pressed the match into his thigh, hissing in pain as he twisted the match, causing the flame to disappear.

Luke wasn't satisfied until there were no matches left. Five new burns.

Luke scrambled upwards, getting into the shower again. He allowed the cold water to run down his burns, slightly soothing his burned skin.

Luke was glad he was known for showering for way too long because otherwise, he probably wouldn't get away with it.

As soon as Luke was out of the shower once again, he regretted relapsing.

Burning wasn't something Luke did often, in fact, he rarely would, using writing as a release instead. Luke wished it was enough.

He had been clean for two months, but once he lost his inspiration to write, he came stumbling right back.

Luke glared at his blurry reflection in the fogged glass, wishing he didn't feel the way he did.

He hated himself so much, it physically hurt.

Luke wished to be something more. As he got dressed, Luke began to think. This was never a good thing in Luke's case because his 'thinking' inadvertently meant 'over-thinking'.

It was a problem, but did Luke want to fix it? No.

Luke rummaged through the cabinets, finding his small black bag. He opened the zipper, admiring the pretty makeup Luke never dared to wear in public. Lucky for him, the other boys had plans to go out to lunch; an invitation Luke gladly ignored.

🌸skipping the makeup application because I have no idea how that shit works🌸

With his eyeliner, mascara, concealer and lip gloss, Luke felt strangely pretty; something Luke didn't feel often.

Luke was very confused about who he was as a person. He loved looking "feminine," wearing pretty clothes and makeup. Sometimes though, Luke hated makeup. He'd want to be in ripped jeans and band tees, with nothing considered feminine whatsoever.

Some days, Luke didn't even know what he felt. He'd end up wearing baggy clothing and feeling even more depressed and confused.

He had researched his symptoms, coming up with the fact that he could be gender fluid.

Luke found nothing wrong with it, of course, but 'gender fluid' just didn't seem quite right. There were no words or categories Luke fit into, nothing except confused.

He already ruled out gender fluid and transgender, but he really didn't understand what it was he felt. Was he a girl, a guy, something in between, or neither?

He had no idea.

Now back at his bunk again, Luke took out his notebook. This is where he wrote his poems and ideas, all locked up in a diary-like notebook.

Luke wore the small key around his neck, hiding it underneath his shirt.

Unlocking the book, Luke pulled the pen hooked onto the binding out, twisting it open.

two days left

This is the first thing he wrote. Then he wrote a poem.

🌸a/n: I suck at poetry, so bear with me🌸

you feel like you're falling
you're sinking down, down, down
no one will understand it
oblivious, they are

you're quiet, they think you're rude
so you'll smile, yet they'd never guess you're faking it
they'd never guess what you really feel
oblivious, they are

you burned yourself? "you must've been baking"
you hit yourself? "you ran into a wall"
you cut yourself? "you must have quite the rose garden"
you jumped off a bridge? "you're so clumsy"
and now, "you're trying to increase your self-esteem? You're so selfish!"
oblivious, they are

you paint on a smile, so they think you're happy
you do it for all of them
so they believe; never will they guess you're faking it
oblivious, they are

they don't know what you are on the inside
oblivious, they are

you continue to fall, with lights all around you
you reach and you reach, but you'll never touch it
you try and you try, but the only light you will ever reach is below

so you fall and you fall until you reach it
now you're free, but no one knows
you were "hit by car; what a tragic accident"
you may now be free, but they'll never know
oblivious they are; oblivious.

🌸🌸🌸

a/n: I told you I suck at poetry XD

and sorry this is very short. I didn't have any other plans for the chapter and I didn't want to drag the self-harm out.

anyways... was the rest understandable? I'm just as confused as Luke so, I mean idk if I make any sense half the time...

plEASE vote and comment :3