fio n. h.

Carve your heart and write “gullible” on it. Learn to cry without having that ugly look, the one that makes people think you cry every single day. You cannot avoid loneliness, you cannot heal from loneliness. Every time I enter a room, I’m the first one to get out. I wait for people in front of the public bathroom, without entering neither the stall nor the bathroom itself. I play bass. I love music, poetry, and life itself. I also hate life, the way it pains you and twists the knife into your h...

There was one day I started wearing clothes sizes bigger than me, with less shiny glitter and more heavy words, there was one day I started sewing patches onto my jackets, one day I dyed my hair black – you couldn’t even properly see the difference, my hair was dark before, but it changed something into my being. I had made my first choice; something that would stay for a longer time; something that would change what people think of me. There was one day I saw someone who managed to sew patches ...

Oh, oh, oh. The siren screams, its sounds are so pained, as if it regretted choosing this occupation. Well, the siren didn’t really choose to sit on top of the ambulance. The siren didn’t pick what made it a siren, the siren didn’t pick what it had to do, the siren didn’t have a chance to choose happiness. Sometimes I feel like a siren. I witness people die, maybe not externally, but deep inside I know they don’t really live anymore. Shells such as me; so empty, so pained. I toss and turn in my...

They showed pills down my throat. It didn’t hurt, no. It was pretty comforting, actually. The humiliation of being wrong, that extraordinary feeling of having done something good again. Am I good? Father, mother, respond. Please. Is it okay I want to kiss a man? Is it okay I’m not a man, nor a woman? Is the color of my skin okay? Am I alright? Is my brain alright? Does the buzzing in it mean something, or is it just residue of the radioactive fever? ...