I go to sleep at
10 p.m
but lately it's more like
2 a.m.
because I don't want
to turn the lights off

I brush my teeth
every morning and night
but lately it doesn't matter
enough to me
because my breath will only again be soured
by bitter truths in the morning

I don't read or watch t.v.
before going to bed
but lately I've been
listening to children's stories
because they imitate the innocence
that was long ago stolen from me

When you kissed me
your soft blonde hair
chilled by the icy wind
wrapped around my infected piercing
pulled at it painfully
dislodged the scab
and made it bleed.
I said nothing
not wanting to upset you.
In turn
I threw my arms around you
and buried my face against
your shoulder
compressing the fresh cuts
lined perfectly on your arms.
You cried out
and pushed me away.

I am only alive
to see for myself if
I am truly wanted,
if people truly need me,
or if I am a burden.

I want break down,
I want to cry,
but all I can do
is suffer in silence.

My body is numb
but my chest is tight
with so much pain.

I feel nothing
and everything.

This is depression.

Sometimes there are days,
The rare days
When the medication seems to be working.
When life seems bearable,
And I see a future for myself.

But then I get to thinking,
What is it all for?
What does it all amount to?
What is my purpose in this world?

The answer is simple:
Nothing.

Spiraling once again,
I realize I want to be dead.
But right now I cannot die,
Too inconvenient a time.

So I turn to the next best thing,
To the scissors in my bathroom.
A tiny, silver, dainty pair,
That nobody would imagine the use for.

My left wrist,
Wearing a permanent white bracelet.
The skin on my hips, discolored with tally marks
Of each minute I wanted to die.

But I'm not dead.
Most would call that an achievement.
I call it weak.

I don't have the guts to get what I want,
I'm too afraid to take it.
I do though, and I realize
That at the moment I don't truly want it.

My friends say I smile all the time,
That I don't have a serious face.
I find this particularly funny,
Because I constantly remind myself
That my frown must be erased.

Nobody wants to see
What is really under my mask.
And if they have a clue what it is,
They are too afraid to ask.

The way she smiles as she walks,
The way she jokes when she talks.
The serious expression her face takes on,
The way her eyes are never drawn.
The feeling when she hugs me to her chest,
And all my problems go to rest.
The nickname that she gave to me,
Always spoken so playfully.
The slight wrinkles on her forehead,
From life's problems that she was too early exposed.
This is the girl that I love,
A fighter,
A survivor,
A warrior.
Though we will never be together,
My love for her will never falter.

Every day when I see you,
My heart does a little dance,
But it also cries out in pain,
We will never be more than friends.