I'm sorry mes amies. This oneshot is gonna be kinda dark. It's based on my own experiences growing up with anxiety and depression and being stuck with homophobes. There are trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts and homophobic/transophopic thoughts.

How cruel is the golden rule?

I was raised to believe that depression wouldn't affect me.

When the lives we lived are only golden-plated

Raised to believe that anxiety was something that wasn't serious.

And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me

Overtime, I believed this less and less. It got harder for me to lose or cry without constantly cursing myself.

Though I carried karats for everyone to see 

I had so much potential, or at least that's what my family said. I was practically expected to constantly be the best.

And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies

Around the age of 10, I started to realize my thoughts weren't healthy ones. Many nights, I had thought about ending my pain. I felt that I was a fucking monster for feeling this way.

And all the lovers with no time for me

For a long time, I had noticed that I was asexual. I felt devoid when it came to sexual things. But I had noticed other things too.

And all of the mothers raise their babies

I discovered that I was bi, which my mother would totally sign me up for counciling if she discovered that. I also knew that my gender changed every so often. After a little bit of research, I found the correct word for it: Gender Fluid

To stay away from me 

I wanted to come out so bad after I found out who I truly was. Problem was that almost everyone I knew was either homophobic or transphopic.

Tongues on the sockets of electric dreams

I began to dream of a better life. One where I could be who I truly was.

Where the sewage of youth drowned the spark of my teens

When I reached middle school, my depression flared up so bad. I had no friends and I was the oddest kid in the 6th grade. For 9 1/2 months, I had no one to talk to at all. That year turned me into a pessimist.

Though I carried karats for everyone to see (everyone to see)

My grades began to slip due to my anxiety. Panic attacks were a daily event for me. I learned to deal with it so that my mom wouldn't notice. My mom began to pressure me about my weight and height. It hurt so much to have the people I loved treat me like crap.

And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies

My mom and dad always told me that they would support me if I was gay. But they would constantly bash the LGBTQ+ community. They'd call them names all the time. It hurt so much that I began to eat less and less.

And all the lovers with no time for me

I began to lose the friends that I had just gained. I isolated myself from the people I loved. However one day, I met the love of my life- music. One of my friends recommended a song by a band that I had never heard of. The song? Hallelujah by Panic! At The Disco. I fell in love immediately. I would even go as far to say that it saved me. I could express myself through the lyrics and I felt no pain while I was listening. However, the thing that I was the most passionate about would be the one thing I was judged the most for.

And all of the mothers raise their babies

The first time I introduced my music to my sister, she called me a satanic piece of crap. I didn't listen to her and kept embracing the music that I loved. Then my family began to shame me for it. Soon after, I would get weird looks every time I wore the merch that I was lucky to have even bought. The thing that was keeping me alive was the thing that no one liked about me.

To stay away from me

I was the odd kid out all my life. I was the kid no one in my school wanted to be. I was the outcast.

And pray they don't grow up to be...

But at least I'm still fighting no matter what.

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Musical oneshots will return next weekend. If you have any requests please let me know. Je vous verrai bientôt mes amis.
~ Sammy