There are moments when I want to take my arms and make a cut so deep all of my pain comes pouring out. I want to watch it disappear and maybe disappear too. I can hardly breathe. I never thought that anyone could live like this, and I was right. No one is living in this state of mind; hence they are only surviving. The pain and agony fuses with your bones and frankly it’s an awful structure. With the words “hurt yourself, hurt yourself” resonating in my mind, It surprises me that I’m still standing. I wish I wasn’t afraid of the dark. I wish I wasn’t afraid of it swallowing me up. I wish I could live without fear of losing myself.

People wear black to cover up their emptiness and say that it’s a fashion statement
We let rings and necklaces litter our bodies to make our cuts and bruises seem beautiful
So soft and so sweet, no one sees.
Our own bodies wrecked beyond repair
While we still give parts to others
Trying to save people from themselves,
They stay oblivious
Actions speak louder than words
So we stay silent
Fighting and fighting
Until we eventually give up
Maybe that action will speak louder than our kind words.

Before I met you, I was stranded out at sea. Clutching onto a deflated life raft and hoping someone would come save me from the crushing waves. You came with every bit and piece to put my raft back together. I’m not saying you saved me, but I’ll be ****** if I don’t say you were a contributing factor.

I’m stuck in the ocean, clutching onto a deflated life raft. Constantly hit by my emotions, drowning me at sea. I am not a ship. I won’t plow through these waves as if they’re ripples. Everything hits me hard, and I’ll be lucky to make it to shore alive.

There are moments when I feel unwelcome in my own home. I feel as if I don’t belong, and my family and friends feel sorry for me. They continue to stay silent. My voice echoes down the hallway. An endless choir, begging to be noticed, but it simply slips from their ears. I feel as if I’m as important as sand. Constantly stepped on, and washed away. There are moments when I am showed some value, but they quickly subside as fast as the ocean swallows me up again. There are no stars in my eyes, and there is nothing colorful about me. I am forgotten. Almost as if I am a tree that fell in the forest. It made a sound. Just no one was listening.

I am neither saying that this is permanent pain, nor a permanent belief. More of a chronic pain, It subsides, but regularly comes back. That every day something happens and for a short time, I am sad. The pain has not yet consumed me. It’s just I’m tired of feeling as if every breath I take will be my last. Living in a constant fear that everything I know is wrong. It’s becoming hard to move away from those thoughts. It’s as if it’s second nature. It festered itself into my subconscious.

What I’m saying is that, there are moments when I forget that I’m sad. That the sun shines brightly on my face, and I feel whole. As each day ends, I lose that warmth and I descend into the dark. There is no sun to keep me warm, only the stars to remind me I am alone. It’s a cycle of finding and losing my mind.

People stopped asking me how I feel, simply because I think that they already knew the answer and they didn’t want to bother with repetition. I turned into a page in a book. Only looked at when needed, only read when I’m wanted. Then I’m put back on the shelf. I feel like people forget about me. That I sort of just fade into the background, because I’m just always there. I am the fly on the wall. Swatted away, and forgotten. There is no real dedication to my existence. Just moments of clarity, and then they go blind again. No matter what it is I am I feel like people stopped caring about me. Maybe it is in a selfish way or maybe it is because I became good at hiding my feelings. I feel like the stars in the night sky. Millions and millions of light years away, and I disappear before anyone acknowledges me.

There are moments when I feel unwelcome in my own home. I feel as if I don’t belong, and my family and friends feel sorry for me. They continue to stay silent. My voice echoes down the hallway. An endless choir, begging to be noticed, but it simply slips from their ears. I feel as if I’m as important as sand. Constantly stepped on, and washed away. There are moments when I am showed some value, but they quickly subside as fast as the ocean swallows me up again. There are no stars in my eyes, and there is nothing colorful about me. I am forgotten. Almost as if I am a tree that fell in the forest. It made a sound. Just no one was listening.