#loz3rauthor

My claws will rake into you and my teeth will sink into your skin, I will fight and I will bruise against distress. I'll eat you up. My paws will take me as far as I can run, even though I hold the speed of a mere human, I am a wolf right now and I will scurry free from the grip of reality that struggles to catch up with me as the wind pushes against it.

I'm out of control.

I will cross a thousand paths, through the seas I will take. I will escape in pure rage, because I am deserving of better--and the lesser is too much for myself to bare. In defense I do the only thing I can. In defense. Everything is in defense, because I'm not trying to be offensive. I don't wanna fight. I just do when I need to. I just do.

I'm a king.

I will look down upon you, capture your problems into a cage and hold them tight in my fist. Be still, for I'm worthy of this stance. Though your problems will seep through my fingers, unleashed once again.

I'm wild.

I'm out of control.

I'm a king.

I'm hurt and scared and angry.

I let my tears trace along my face, my cool flesh so cold that it burns when my hand crosses paths with my cheek, yet I remain still.

I remain still.

My face is warm from my tears yet freezing from my hands. The blackholes that center in the middle of the child's dull gaze stare back at me, and silence floods the room, choking both me and the child upon my view. They just stare at me, no questions, no scoffs or laughs, no sympathy for what they've become.

I'm sorry my blood spells out in thick unneat writing, the words are there and spelled out, yet they refuse to seep out of my throat, but the child presented in front of me seems to understand I need to drown out these words from myself. So they do it for me, wanting to know what I have to say.

In curiousity yet with stern intention the child reaches out, and my throat suddenly burns as the words die out of my now slit throat, I'm sorry. And those weren't the words they were expecting, and I'm sorry for doing what I did before they came, and I'm sorry for making them do it, too.

They ruined me just as I had ruined the person before me when they were too in my position and I was in the child's. And then warm tears start to drip down their face, and they look in the mirror.

They remain still as their hand chills their face.

I collapse. My feet drag along as does the wind heaving itself against my own, my knees so ever scraped as the barrage of it all has then strained me down once more.

The straps envelop my body, you'd had to look twice to realize I'm free, for the safety scissors I used look they'd only cut the crispful seams.

A suit and tie withhold my life, yet over and over is everything I've done merely a white lie? A noose and a cry withhold my tries, yet over and over and I can't even succeed when I'm sober.

My tears sought out the sound of cereal on a saturday morning, cartoons on the TV and when nothing mattered but me.

I collapse onto the floor once once once more, till I'm screaming in pain, aching as I get taken away by the same depression wave.

HIII!! I'm a young author!! You can call me lozer

other accounts: @loz3rkidd69 @loz3rliterature @moodboards-of-a-loz3r

Most of the books I make will have foul language or violence! I haven't officially published books, but in the future I will write a range from these types of books :

Poetry

Fantasy

Coming-of-age

sci-fi

dystopian

bittersweet/melancholic

Drama

They often come in pairs! Dystopian with bittersweet, coming-of-age with drama, etc.

My future books will depict MATURE themes! Such as suicide, overdosing, drug abuse, foul language (including slurs!), Homophobia, etc. I do NOT condone any of that! I believe all of that is either sad or wrong, I do not encourage it, I simply write about it. I am queer myself, so no, I am not homophobic.

My current project is Always Opposites! About a weak scrawny boy and a unsupervised sadistic druggie. /hj.

My eyes are heavy and I feel weak yet I beg and plead, 'can someone just fucking listen, please?" for my eyes are dim and my chest starts to ache, so I'll cry and cry into the newfound moonlight.

And as it blends through the sky, everything around me melts and my world forms into a spiral,

a spiral of lies, hate, pain and disgrace, if only I had the energy to try and fight it away.

But I scratch too hard and bite too much, rip my hair out as a coping clutch, all I ask for is a loving touch.

But no one can hear, so there I lie. I close my eyes and oh am I so tired, yet my dreams do not overcome nor does my sleep,

for even though I'm tired, I do not wanna sleep, feed me pills or read me a story, I'll still toss and turn in my restless demeans. I'll cry out some more till my eyes grow heavy again.

A loud honk,

extremely bright red lights,

"Why do you worry so much about how you look?"

I only shrugged, "I just do."

A little later, the same friend asked, "Why do you look so sad all the time?"

I didn't respond this time, just froze up.

She asked me again when we went inside, I don't remember exactly what I said, just that I dismissed it with something similar to