white phosphor lamentations
08/04/2026
Content warning: descriptions of arousal, sex, and sex acts, descriptions of blood, descriptions of eating disorders, depictions of self harm, depictions of substance abuse, explicit suicidal ideation, and explicit transphobia.
At the time of writing, I was in the midst of severe, untreated depression, and trapped in a home that I did not want to be in. At time of publication, I am doing quite well, and feeling a lot better since I moved out for graduate school.
This is one massive vent-piece that i'm not gonna bother sanitizing or separating into individual poems. Maybe in the future I will re-release some of them.
If this collection of poems makes you uncomfortable, or triggers something, PLEASE close this page and discontinue reading, because I don't want you to hurt over an internet poem. You are loved.
— Kat
depravity
it's a fuzzy feeling of loneliness
one that starts from the chest
and rolls downwards
into a torturous abyss
grasp on the mind unshakable
a primordial hunger
not for food, but for another
and one that more often than not
leads to catastrophe
because i can't fucking keep it in
and then i keep doing stupid shit
over and over and over and over and over
and over again, wounding my soul
as well as my ass
and im fucking sick and tired and fed up
i want to stop
an addiction worse than cigarettes or alcohol or caffeiene
and i fucking can't
Gooning: the act or practice of masturbating for a prolonged period of time without orgasm in order to maintain a state of arousal
source: merriam fucking webster?! what the hell?
such a vile word describing a vile act
and in the absensce of someone that can
feed the temptations of the flesh
and hurt me in a way that i still don't know how to mend
i do this to myself
the pleasure is fleeting
ephemeral, floating away like alkyl nitrites out of a brown bottle
but the consequences are immediate
there is blood EVERYWHERE
so much fucking blood
it's on my desk, my chair, the floor
dripping down my legs
and mixing with the tears
because every fucking time i goon
i end up crying, because i am truly alone
rectally bleeding at my desk
wearing nitrile gloves
absolutely fucking pathetic
covered in blood, tears, and other bodily fluids
and i'm numb to it all
not just physically (thank you lidocane!)
but mentally
headache creeping in, as i shuffle into
the shower to sober up
and i weep once more
because i miss her, or him, or them
and i miss showering together
and i miss the intimacy we had
and i bleed because i was too rough with myself
chasing a similacrum of the intimacy i so deeply desire
and i can't even hold onto
all i do is push away people i love
because im out of fucking control
i do not deserve genitals anymore
someone else can have them
free local pickup, otherwise you pay shipping and handling.
blame
play the blame game
but i always get blamed
and it's always my fault
nobody will miss me when i'm gone
they'll just play the blame-game with each other
do... you... know... what...
blame me, for everything
never fucking good enough
always doing stupid shit
living like a degenerate or a slob
blame me for things i didn't even fucking do
why the fuck not
fuck you.
and fuck off.
i don't fucking care anymore.
is what i want to say
but i won't, because i've eaten all the blame
irreversable damage
enjoy your blame-game when i'm gone, fuckers.
saying goodbye
i said goodbye
to a pair of night vision tubes
that i owned as an interim
in between spring break
and mid-july
i figured i'd keep them for longer
except i traded them away
so i can reunite a pair of
high-end L3Harris 18UMs that were
nearly perfectly matched, and purchased
by the guy i bought the first tube from
as a matched set in a matched night vision device
i packed my tubes up nicely
and printed a shipping label
and said my goodbyes
to the tubes i thought i'd keep for at least another year
goodbyes come so soon
just like college.
just like high school.
just like middle school.
and evertything before that
saying goodbye was always hard
especially for things and people i hold dear
but i will have to leave one day
and i don't know if the goodbyes I say
are going to be my last
maybe they will be
maybe they won't be
i'm probably never seeing those tubes again
but they were never all that sentimental anyway
=
saying goodbye is so hard
especially before you realize
you fucked up so bad you lost a friend
nobody else to blame but yourself
a wound that keeps reopening
and bleeding, a worsening pain
that instantly ruins my day
and is only intensified
by the fact that i have no-one
to say goodbye to
I do not want to say goodbye.
the Polish goodbye, taught to me by my ex-boyfriend
yap on and on and on as you make the motions to leave
spend an hour at the car chatting
saying goodbye is hard after all
and i'm not ready to go
i've made no concrete plans
no tragic letter, no last will and testament
no contingencies
so i force myself to stay
10 minutes at a time
waiting at the car, and holding off my goodbyes
appetite suppression
I'm starting wegovy
because im fat and disgusting
and im tired of not being able to lose weight
besides the two times I did lose weight due to being fed
college food and military rations
people keep telling me not to start
or i can lose weight if i try
but trying is so hard
when even simple tasks become heavy
so heavy that they weigh you down
and then all of a sudden
even eating becomes hard
which is why i didn't gain weight this summer
eating used to be fun
i used to like it
now i scrape by
feeling it all come apart
i hate how i look
its only a matter of time
if i stop eating for long enough
i will be pretty
and delicate
and feminine
and then i can eat whatever i want
man, this will save me so much money in grad school
the magic autoinjector
switch up my eating disorders
either way i'm slowly killing myself
i might as well try to looksmaxx my way out
of my misery
i can't fucking do it anymore
i'm sick and tired of being stuck
if i get any better i will start eating again
and i will become a burgeoning monster beyond my own reckoning
and i am going to need to be euthanized
it's life or death, and i choose life
one missed meal, chewed slowly at a time
pain
every day i wake up
and every day something hurts
usually my back
some times my neck
occasionally my legs and arms
i live in a broken body
because i got poisoned
because my stupid fucking college
put me in a stupid fucking motel room
my sophomore year
that had black mold, growing in the AC
and now im permanently damaged
the college of William and Mary is not getting A SINGLE FUCKING CENT
from me.
except for the chemistry department, they are the only ones deserving
for being the reason i'm still here today, thank you Professor Thompson
you have no idea how much i owe it to you, your class kept me alive, and going
in spite of the pain, in spite of my failing PChem grade
and in spite of all the damage done to me
and thank you, Professor Molloy, for teaching me so much
not just about chemistry and lab instrumentation, but about life
learning more in my year and a half, than the entirety of the coursework i've taken
a forgiving authority in a way nobody in my life had been before
letting me know that's it's okay, and we're not perfect
and thank you, Professor Abelt, for being the best mentor I've ever had
being there for me, guiding me to be the best i can be
i wouldn't be who I am without you, and I certainly wouldn't be around if it wasn't for
the research keeping me going during some of the darkest times in my life
i miss you all so fucking much
i hope the pain doesn't get to me
and i stick around long enough to see you again
for homecoming at W&M
even though it's so far away
so far away...
and i'm stuck here
in agonizing, worsening pain
headaches, getting worse and worse
full body aches, to the point i can't think
hunger pangs, sharp and visceral, a reminder to eat and to live
intestinal pain, probably from the shit bug going around since our government is run by morons
and the worst pain of all
the pain of being alone
with no-one to talk to
pushing away everyone i love
it all hurts so bad
hurts to the point
that things just smear out
like blood cells on a glass slide
viewed under a microscope
research and development
into nothing at all
the pain of loss blended with
physical pains
slowly becoming unbearable
i can't fucking sleep anymore
the worst part about
this year's major depressive episode
is probably the insomnia
i'm so tired
but i cannot sleep
inexplicably
wired awake
eyes wide shut
the only thing that works is diphenhydramine
take it as a sleep aid
5 pills, 125 mg.
just like when i was working on my thesis
and trying knock myself out
so i didn't need to think about how pretty she is
and how we'd never be together
i let out a wail
and i keep crying
in agony of being
unable to rest
and so worn down theres
nothing i want more
than to close my eyes
sleep is my only escape from
melancholy, and now i'm kept awake
as a form of torture
because apparently i don't even deserve rest
the yearning for permanent sleep grows with
each passing day
just let me lie down damnit
i don't want to drink or do more diphenhydramine
and yet i end up awake into the morning, where
my body gives out and i squeeze out a meager
amount of rest, before my room heats up and so do i
waking me up as a brutal reminder
of my own fraility
no options left
either i stay up and collapse from exhaustion
or i escalate the dosage of diphenhydramine
since the 125 mg doesn't work like it did
after two consecuitve nights
at least there's no hangover
or my chronic pain and fatigue
have simply gotten so bad that
they mask the hangover entirely
unconsciousness is the ultimate bliss
only in dreams can i escape the melancholy
and in the void of sleep i have respite
fuck it
8x25=200 mg diphenhydramine
enough to knock me out cold for 12 hours straight
grasping for a bliss i have been so denied
wake up the next day hung over
slept for 15 hours straight
waking up to my mother checking in
if i was okay
which i was not but i could never tell
her that, since she'd go on and on about
how [insert thing] taken daily would fix my depression
or tell me its just a part of life
and i stumble around my house and collapse again
sleeping more often than not
i hate the way the pills make me feel
but its so good to be able to sleep again
i hesitate to say that death is the same
and i'm not ready to go yet
I believe that I will meet my Lord and Savior
when the time is right
but in sleep, perhaps even a prolonged unconsciousness
a limbo between life and death
nobody can find me here
and maybe that's where I want to be
asleep until my problems go away
friends!
force myself out
out of the house to see my friends
drive 300 miles to a night hike
and spend time with online friends
bonding over a shared hobby
logistics and planning
meeting up with a larger group
my last trip out
before i start graduate school
do a test and evaluation
of my friends' night vision devices
and for a brief moment
i was happy.
setting aside whatever woes
to put up a joyous face
physical activity wards off negative thoughts
and the stress of a night hike is just enough
to offset whatever I had been feeling that week
but there is always an end of the hike
the image tubes need to rest as much as i do
or working part time
as a technician for a night vision
company, something that brings me
pride and joy for how far i've come
but even still
friends go home
i go home
and i am alone
again
and miserable
such immense heights
only have meaning with such immense lows
and the worst part about seeing my friends
is the severe melancholy that comes
when we need to part ways
i really was happy
but at the end of the day
it was ephemeral
clinging onto a piece of debris
before i sank below the waves again
i miss my friends
and in the melancholy
i can find brief respite
through work and companionship
but at the end of the day
friends are temporary
they will leave
to lives of their own
and i will be left
alone with my thoughts
rumination, leading to annihilation
the emptyness
its 0400
time for bed
i brush my teeth
and he's in bed, waiting for me
he holds me, and i start to weep
every time i cuddle with him
i lament to myself
through the tears and the
waves of pleasure
why did i leave him?
what the fuck is wrong with me?
why can't i be happy anymore?
i'm so desperate for any connection
that i end up hurting myself more and more
i crawl back to the familiar
I don't know if i love him anymore
it's something else, that hurts to acknowlege
i push away everyone i love
and i cling to him
probably because i don't love him
and it hurts even more knowing
maybe i do love him
or maybe i just love the way he makes me feel
warm, safe, and whole again
and i don't ever want to let go
without him i am empty
but its not just him
not the first and not the last
another in a string of people
who've caught my heart
and live rent-free in the emptyness of my head
pain2//bloody tears
when everyone leaves
the only thing left is pain
the body aches inexplicably
probably a result of being poisoned
or something like that
but when it's time to do anything
meeting people
running errands, interacting
with friends and family
et cetera
all i can say is im spent
and the pain comes rolling in
so bad i start crying
and the tears roll down my face
into my mouth because my face just does that
i can taste my own tears
bloody. they taste like a bloody nose
im not bleeding out of my eyes
but it feels like it
feeling my back and neck and legs and joints
and my sinews and viscera slowly pulled apart
shredded like a lump of pork
smoked for a wonderful taste
tear through my flesh and slather the shreds in
a sweet glaze
over my eyes so i can't see
while im driving no less
i wail out to no-one
absolutely fucking hysterical
losing everything over nothing at all
there is no reason for me to feel like this
nothing rational anyways
but rationality can't save me from
the agony, real or imagined
and once the pain starts
the spiral begins
and i start my descent into tartarus
the headaches, body pains and all
fogging the mind and weighing down the body
making even daily tasks drag on and burn what
little stamina i've been saving
over and over again
only in sleep am i freed from the burden
but my pain keeps me from sleeping
a catch-22 of hellish design
if i can rest the pain goes away
but if i am in pain i cannot rest
and if i cannot rest
i remain in pain once again
not to mention my breasts ache
which makes it all the worse
because that pain is genuinely inexplicable
and i'm unsure if its necessary
but what use is it to whine
i'm in pain anyways
the pain pills don't fucking work
just the emptyness of being out cold
the limbo between life and death is my
only solace which i am repeatedly denied
and i writhe and wail and cry
but nothing changes
i remain in agony
wishing nothing more than it to end, forever.
leaving marks
no, i will not cut myself
because i scar easily
i'm covered in scars already
from stupid mistakes and
genuine accidents
but the razor blades littering my room tempt me
i don't deserve anything but to be flayed open
bleeding everywhere
spill blood in a ritual
that might bring me joy
or if not joy, something that isn't melancholy
i tried snapping rubber bands, and the sting and itch
honestly, felt good, in an obtuse way
but dragging the tip of my knife across my skin
leaving a light scratch
seemed to feel even better
im in so much pain already
why inflict more on myself
maybe thats why i love to fester
in my own pain
because at the end of the day
im only in pain because i am alive
and a life without pain may not be life at all
its all i've known for a decade now
pain on the inside doesn't leave marks
but the pain that feels good
ultimately will
and i hesitate to sterilize
a razor blade
and trace it across my skin
i am medically trained
and my instinct is to patch up any
wound to my body
so it goes against every fiber
of my miserable being
a tug of war between
letting myself bleed
and doing nothing at all
making a feeling of being alive
or slowly dying in my indecisiveness
i so want to dig the knife deeper
i like the way needles feel as the poke
through my skin and into my flesh
needles feel marvellous
epsecially when medical professionals stick them in my broken body
but alas, I have to ration my needles
and to waste them on the frivolities
on feeling the pain of injection
is not worth the price i pay
in infection, or in the literal price
i wish for pain not of my own
perhaps inflicted on me by a sexual partner
something that reminds me that i
despite everything happening to me
am still alive
i miss the tingly warmth of asphyxiation
and the feeling of nails digging into my skin
or being slammed against a wall or into my bed
i want to be hurt so bad
but i don't have it in me to do it myself
so i leave no marks and wish for and end to my suffering
miss//gendered
i fucking knew this would happen
i knew it 7 weeks before i graduated
freaking out over a forced detransitioning
but oh, it was worse than that
i simply did not anticipate
the massive cognitive dissonance and mental
gymnastics of literally everyone close to me
my family all telling themselves the lie
that i'm a strong young man
and i just let it slide right over my head
ignoring their meaningless complements
attributed to a dead man
one who died nearly a decade ago
every fucking day i wake up to a hell i had escaped from
and it makes everything worse
i can't fucking say anything
and it drains what little patience i have
so i lash out
i'm visibly unwell, and they're fucking pissing me off
every waking moment its some other bullshit
i just don't. fucking. care. anymore.
i absolutely despise interacting with my family and their friends
despite how much i love them!
but they've hurt me before and i won't
let them hurt me again
so i'm playing the long con
get as much as i can out of them
before they inevitably force me out of their lives
which is probably better for me in the long run
i'm not ready for that, yet
i need to bide my time
and NOT kill myself because 41%ing myself would
simply be TOO funny to my haters and my enemies
and too tragic for my lovers and friends
but man does this shit fucking suck
and everyone around me
who doesn't know me?
think's im a fucking woman anyway!
i was at the doctor recently
and he asked
No offense, but what gender do you identify as? Your chart says you're male but i'm really not sure?
are you fucking shitting me
panic reply something about legal identity
and he asks the more pertinent question of
my assigned sex at birth
so i tell him male, and that i'm on hormones
which are NOT on my chart because i lied about the medications i take
and i'm really hoping my insurance doesn't find out
i need the wegovy as mentioned prior
fuck. its over. i pass so well even the doctors are getting confused
this wasn't the first time either.
when i went to the ER, the medical staff
clearly noticed that i looked very different
than what my chart or ID said
and they were nice about it
which is just so strange to me
since i never thought i passed
particularly well
it comes as a visceral shock
to know that the old self really is gone
and references to him don't make any sense anyways
to the disdain of my family, i've become the daughter they never wanted.
the eldest son, a disgrace;
the black sheep of the family
i cannot be their source of pride
nothing but shame to them
losing not only a son
the eldest son, the son of pride and joy
but their son wanted to be a surgeon
and serve his country, in a way his father never could
attending a prestigious ivy leage college or some shit
instead they got a daughter
who chose not to follow the path set for her
lost interest in medicine and military service
and rekindled a passion for science
who never went to the prestigious school (in their heads)
and couldn't compare to other asian kids, going to be doctors or lawyers or engineers
she was going to be a scientist like she dreamed of as a kid
i've come so far in ways i could've never dreamed of
and yet i still feel like an abject failure
bearing an unseen burden of disappointment
for my family
miss-gender me all you want, i'm not changing for anyone.
dissociation
watching it all melt away
involuntarily leaving
just so i don't need to feel anything
unplug myself from my feelings
float off into obscurity
staring out and away
so much easier than
facing the pain
just cease thinking
and drift off and away
at the steering wheel with tears running down my face
curled up on a floor, whimpering softly
at my dining room table, extremities limp
its just inevitable
an escape from the [unit]cell that i'd found myself in
split apart
mentally, a rate constant
pushing my reality away from my experience
the solution to my problems
dissolution into nothingness
a rate constant because i can't spend
my entire existence dissociating away
snap back to reality
percipitation into a solid form
dragged back to a hellish crystalline lattice
man, if only there were drugs for this
(there are.)
but i don't have them
so the feelings are only temporary
and thus i spend my time in equlibrium
hanging in a constant state of dissociation and percipitation
why do cigarettes feel so good?
i can't do it.
after nearly running out of gas
in connecticuit
i found a highway rest stop
and lit up a cigarette
American Spirit Gold
it was, unfortunately just as good as i remember it being.
smooth, and blissful outside a gas station
memories of the science building flood into my head
FUCK
I promised myself i'd quit, after my last cigarette with my ex, or after my final
since i don't remember which came later
memories homogenizing into pain and haze
i miss her still
every day, and every time i see the pack of american spirits
i think of her.
and it hurts
opening old wounds
might as well right?
i needed it.
and it was good.
good like i remembered it was
i didn't care anymore
but i didn't smoke it to the butt like
i typically do, i put it out
early, and felt a lot better
two days later
broken in spirit
and absolutely fucking done
i collapse on my driveway after
driving back from a dental appointment
face numbed from lidocane
i take another cigarette
American Spirit Turquoise
out of the pack, and light it up
brazenly, i know my mom can see me
it's a brief respite
from my agony,
momentary bliss i had not felt
well, since sunday. BUT BEFORE THAT
it was a time when i was stressed out
and putting out my best work
in the absence of a goal
aimless and depressed
floating through the air like cigarette smoke
blowing into the wind
yearning for more
man, why do cigarettes feel so good?
not nicotine, it's not the same
zyns feel terrible, and nicotine replacement is less
"good feels" and more like a very strong energy drink
careful, precise focus rather than absolute bliss
a little star of hope, even if it kills me at the end of the day
Heisenberg's uncertainty principle
the summer will inevitably end.
as it always does
the flow of time cannot be reversed
and in this ebb and flow of life
i find myself in a different city
moving into the appalachians
for graduate school
an escape from the pit
i don't know what the future holds
either i know where i am, but i dont' know how fast i'm going
or i know exactly how fast i'm going, but i don't know where i am
as in quantum mechanics, as is life
i don't know anything and i don't know how much i don't know
and i am deeply afraid
afraid of the depression coming back
afraid of standing on the edge again
afraid of needing to take remedial P-chem
afraid that all i did up to this point meant nothing
afraid that i don't even know what i'm afraid of
i'm settling into a new apartment
and i've been freed
freed from the hell that i got dragged into
and set free into an uncertain world
an uncertain future
resolution limited, more scans needed
there is a fundamental limit to the linewidth
low signal to noise ratio
but i must take my leap of faith
out into the unknown
to forge a path for myself
one where i can truly be free
and earn my PhD
so help me God.