Anthems of a teenage Juvenile.

Based on a true event.

“God, what a f*****g mess I’ve made, a totally hell hole I’ve got myself into and made such a damn lunatic of myself.”
My eyes wear red and swollen, tender and raw from a full 48 hours of hysterical cries. My voice was scratchy from excessive screaming, fighting and repenting against everything at the hospital: the nurses, the police, the elderly patients who couldn’t sleep because of me and my every outburst. The nurse’s lip is broken and the security guard, well I got him pretty hard in the eye. Here I am now, sitting in a f*****g jail cell. Originally, they were going to transfer me to an inpatient psych unit. They guards haven’t given me my prescription meds. I’m anxiously, and restlessly pacing the cell. There is nothing in here to kill myself with and I’m hallucinating again. Cartoons and animated pictures prance on the walls of this cement cage I’m in. I take my right hand and with my finger nails, viciously and vigorously and dig and scratch and the up right side of my left hand until blood seeps through the fine thin layered and skinned flesh. It stings like fumes and alcohol and burns like it was resting on stove tops. They don’t give me food or water. All I fantasize about is my funeral. This system is killing me more, reaching in deep and ripping out more at my very core. I am gone on the inside. On the outside, my eyes are just foggy pigments, my skin is broken, and my body is weakening. Then I thought to myself, “Kill what kills you.”