I’m overwhelmed

With happiness
With excitement

But also
A sense of nervousness?

Maybe it’s anxiety?
I really wouldn’t know

All I know is that I’m ready to face it

I might be overwhelmed


But I’m ready

i tried to breathe without by my side.
although we weren't conjoined at the hip and you didn't know what my favorite color was,
we were a part of each other.
i can still see your eyes turning into half moons,
and i still remember the way you laughed and your mannerisms.
you're in everything i do,
in everything i say.
i try to breathe without you but it hurts too much and i've come to the conclusion that i can't breathe without you.

People that don't self harm
Don't seem to understand it.
But I don't expect them to.

First, it hurts, A LOT.
It hurts when you first do it
And it hurts the next day.
It hurts when your long sleeves rub against it
And it hurts when you look at what you did.

Next, cuts bleed, A LOT.
At first they don't bleed,
You start cutting deeper,
Then they bleed, a lot.
It doesn't stop bleeding.

Please don't tell me to just stop.
I can't just stop.
It's so addicting.
Even though I want to stop,
I can't.

It starts out as you control it,
But then it ends up controlling you.
You want to wear short sleeves?
Think again, you can't.
You want to go swimming with friends?
Oh yeah, they'll probably think you're crazy.

Every time you do it one more time,
It becomes more and more addicting.
Just one more you think, but no.
This is the last time, but it's not.
You can't just stop.

I don't mean to hurt the people around me.
In that moment, all I can think about is
Hurting myself.
I'm sorry for hurting everyone else
While I'm hurting myself.

i watched you die over and over again.
i saw you disappear in your bed sheets instead of going to school.
i felt the broken pieces of your heart poke my chest when i hugged you in attempt to repair it.
the more puffy your eyes were,
the worse day it was.
i wrote you poems and letters filled with love and heartache.
i told you we were going to travel and i would get tattoos all dedicated to you.
in these moments,
and always,
i would break my back for you.
bu there's not enough hugs,
not enough letters or poems one could write to help your flowers flourish again.
it's been the longest winter,
and at the same time,
we never wanted it to end.
you wanted to hold on
and i had no choice but for it to consume me too.
there weren't enough hugs or letters,
there weren't enough friend visits and smiles to make things how they were before.
for i too quickly tape down pieces of my soul to keep me grounded,
to keep me from floating away
because

you

need

me.

you need me to be here,
to be strong for the both of us.
there were times where i couldn't be there.
those were the times where  i would stare at the ceiling,
sit on my flood,
cry for hours.
write notes for my loved ones.
"i'm sorry."
but i can see spring.
i can see the warmth.
i can smell the smell of morning dew.
i can hear the rain that heals us all,
most importantly i can see our flowers growing in our veins again.

looking at you,
i felt so distant.
i will never feel as close to anyone as close as i felt to her,
and i'm okay with that because what we had was something that i've never seen,
not even in the movies.
it's starting to feel like you were never here.
the one that kept everything together.
i'm addicted to the sadness.
it seems like all i can write about is you,
i'm starting to forget the color of your eyes,
how warm your hands were,
the sound of your voice.
going back to you now would make me seem like a fool and my pride seems to not back down so until then,
until i give in,
i miss you.
i'm sorry i'm not as interesting or energetic as i was two years ago or on my good days that i have sometimes.
things just don't feel right but without you both
i have no one.
i will be no one.
no matter how many times you'll tell me i matter or that you love me,
i can't see it,
i can't feel it.

it was just that kind of day.
the kind of day where no matter what i did, it wasn't good enough.
the kind of day where i couldn't speak in fear of bursting out crying or laughing or both.

i set it all out in front of me.
books, papers, bracelets, drawings, notes, notebooks filled with diary entries,
i laid it all out in front of me.
looking at these things i felt myself getting smaller.
want to feel like nothing again?
close your eyes and you'll hear what they all said about you, like it's happening right now.

when i'm happy i sometimes forget how the scars on my ankles, thighs, and wrists got there.
three years,
then one,
then four months,
then none.
now i won't keep track but if i think hard enough it's been almost three years again.

then it turned into That kind of day,
everywhere i looked i could hear my parents fighting and even the floor looked like your eyes.
i listened to the songs that got me through it and i listened to the songs that made me feel okay with being small.