𝐦𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥

{ 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭. } 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤. 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 🖤

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tw: sh

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tw: body horror, sh

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tw; depictions of sh, toxic study motivation, burnout

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why did you close the door?

are you hiding something from me?

my sweet child

would never

disobey

****

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the place i was born does not

welcome me with open arms

shifting gazes and sideways stares

heavy with accusation

despite the pledge of my allegiance

unsaid words spurring at

my foreign form

the place i was born urges me

that my future is bright

on another's lands

but there, too, i am simply

an interloper

with all looking scornfully, a haze of suspicion

eyes flitting up and down my foreign form

"are you planning on settling down here?"

said, with malice.

now, then, and forever.

— written by the interloper.

{ on reaching and reaching, for a missing sense of belonging. }