At 11, I was able to see the scars on someone’s wrist
I was able to search for the marks on someone’s soul
And heal it with my own
I was a dam to emotions and pain
To depression and inter hurt
because I saw the scars

By 13, I thought I was past this
Past the terror and the soul-wrenching guilt
This constant need to heal the hurt
And fix the broken

But then I heard the one thing I remembered so very well
And all the memories came flooding back
With “I hate my body,” “I broke my streak,” “I killed another butterfly,” “can you see it.”

I have told these people my life I told them I would be there for them
But it seems that instead of just being there for them, I am them
Covering their emotions
Using my own
I am tired
So very tired

But that’s the thing.
I can say anything because
If you aren’t directly harming yourself
But a bystander and a buffer
You have no right to say anything
You don’t “know what they are going through” or “you wouldn’t get it. “

Sweetie, I have been around it my entire life.
It’s the only thing that kept me from doing the same things
They did to themselves
Because I know what it’s like to be me

Late August 2021
I learned that one of these people attempted suicide last year.
What do I do now
I called every week after I moved
I texted
I consoled
But this is what happens

Why do I feel guilty?
I blame myself
To someone who is thousands of miles away
I could have done so much more
Been there more

And now when they say I’m ok
I don’t believe it
I don’t think anything anyone says anymore

So I may not be a suicidal survivor
But I am the best friend
Just the best friend
That is what you see from the outside
And ***** it, thats hard
You have to watch someone as they fell into a deep hole
Knowing you can’t stop
Seeing the scars without wanting to

So this is me, the mender of broken things
My thread is my soul
My fabric is my heart
I’m surprised both are still there.

I hide away from the shadows.
They cloud my senses.
I avoid them at my every grasp.
Covering my fears like a mask
Freeing
Hiding
Running

Safety is just a cover-up.
A mask per-say
To hide the pain I endure every day.

Sometimes I drift too far.
To uncover
The pain within
I fall
Down deeper than I ever want to go
To the deep within
Full of locked memories and broken dreams
I arrive at the candy store of childhood horrors

The word that is used to describe my pain
“Salty”
“Agro”
Brief description
That is nowhere near correct
I mask my pain with anger and smiles
Hoping to reconcile with the thing people call god

What is god
Is god a service
A prayer
Or just a figment of our imagination
Is it some man floating in the sky opening the gates of heaven
Saying walk right in

No
God is who we want it to be
It is something to cherish and to hold
In the darkest of times

Then why do I not believe?
Will it make things better?
Saying
Our god who art in heaven, please help
Maybe so that
I can breathe again

One day I’ll see you again
I’ll see the pleasure in your eyes
And not in the shining blade
That I want to drag across my wrists
The idea of ending everything is complex
It will take away the pain
But what is the gain

Just when I think the darkness has gone away
It comes back as strong as a wave
Crashing down on me
Sending my ship of light
Into the dark depths, the future holds

I’ve never looked death in the face
But if I did
I would punch it in its perfect teeth
Death has taken nothing from me
It only takes from those around me
It takes and takes but is never satisfied
There is always a hungry

There is a demon living in my mind,
Swirls of pitch black monsters,
Infiltrating the clouds that currently reside,
biting away at the minimal hope,
and I’m struggling to cope.

A churning tornado rises,
spewing safety into the sinister sky,
gun to my head,
my vision starts to blur,
Swirls of whir
and I imagine a white light,
bright
peace is finally with me.
Momentarily.

Rows of skeletons emerge,
sounds of a red train stir.
I am shot by arrows,
one by one,
nothing has felt fun
flashes of my fears roll past,
as the skeletons ****** me,
now aboard the red train,
I realise the demon has returned.

Whispers of
“Why are you so fat”
“You are worthless”
“You mean nothing to no one”
“Go die”
are echoed through my brain

I regret not skipping that last meal,
I isolate myself from friends,
they don’t need to know how I feel.
I’m too good at lying to myself,
to ones I love most,
you don’t need to feel my pain,
it would just leave a permanent stain.
So all you’ll see is that smile on my face,
not the cries that are filling up my heart’s empty space

Instead,
invisible scars fill up my skin,
chains of hurt weigh me down more,
I’m dragging myself along,
even though I just want my whole life gone.

I fight to stay alive,
just breathe and count to five
one more day I say,
one more friend I have to help,
one more person I can’t break,
Why does my life feel like a big mistake

I live behind a mask,
cloth and plastic layered,
one over another,
doused in buckets of thick paint,
remembering how to act like myself seems ever so faint,
I don’t even know who I am anymore.

But what am I supposed to do,
when no one ever seems to care
and my friends aren’t aware
when all I want to do is cry,
but I’ve held the tears back too long,
nothing can come out.

My life is a game of chess,
I am the pawn,
and you,
anxiety,
are the king.
You control the board,
looking for a simple lure.
A master manipulator,
twisting truths,
all for that one word
“Checkmate.”

The monsters are still hunting me down,
they won’t stop until every token of my happiness is found.
At least if I’m gone,
I can say that I tried.
I’m scared,
my fingers are trembling,
hiding my fears are a daily killing.

There’s a crushing feeling in my chest,
don’t come and join my fear fest,
it’s just too hard fighting all the concealed panic attacks,
laughter seems to lack,
too many lies that have spilled out of my mouth like an open crack

I let the demons petrify me for too long,
hold me captive in a murky sea,
shake me till my fears overtake.

Pull yourself out,
rip the mask off,
realize you can’t conquer it,
but you can escape.

A crushing terror
Combined with error
I can’t breathe
Quivering like a leaf
As I fall down,
Down this deep empty hole
Where I’m worth no more than a meaningless mole
I feel like a mime
Staying silent so I don’t explode
While I’m riding down this seemingly endless road

The thing is
Knowing you’re making something out of nothing
Knowing that I can breathe
Even though it feels like my lungs are closing in
Collapsing in on each other
Knowing that it is irrational
Don’t say I’m emotional
Therapy does not work
They cant fix my quirk
Method after method after method
Feeling neglected

Collapsing inside
Wating for the pain to subside
Yelling to keep others
From becoming my fear
It can be anything
One cough
Twitch
Sound
It comes like a wave strong and fierce
Like feeling the first pierce
Of a blade as it brushes your skin

In 2016 2⁄3 of college students reported having overwhelming anxiety
You see what pressure people go through
Whether it’s about
Homelife
Social life
School life
Homework
Or diagnosed anxiety

Once I had a friend
A knife slit her wrists
Spilling blood onto the floor
What more, what more, what more
An internal struggle
Her thoughts muddled
All I could do was watch
As she fell down this empty dark chasm
With no possible way to escape
Not a single way out
I can’t do anything
I’m a statue in her garden

I wish I could run
Wish I could hide
But I’m the friend
That you confess and confide in
The one that you trust
When I leave I worry I will never see you again
Not because you’ll leave
But because the knife will slit too deep
I know its selfish
But I just wish
I could change everything for you
But soon its all going to be darkness and gloom

Then you stopped writing
You stopped calling
You stopped caring
I know you’re there
But why does it feel like I’m the only one here
Send me a sign,
just to let me know you’re fine

So I’m not stuck in the in-between

I live in a world full of never ending hills,
deep valleys,
murky lakes,
overarching mountains,
and so many fears

I wonder how some people are okay with who they are,
no care whatsoever who is judging them,
doing what they want
so happy and carefree

Then there’s me,
I don’t know who I am,
what I am,
what I can do.

I am nothing against these people,
nothing against the world,
Slowly pushing me forward,
but faster then I want to
what if I’m happy where I am?

Apparently,
I can’t be.

Hear what I have to say
you don’t consider this every day

I’m just a human being living
and breathing
don't you see what I’m seeing
I smell coffee
I eat Oreos

When has liking someone ever been a crime
I don’t want to
be your  mysterious mime
I like someone different so do you
but to me it's natural.  

I can’t change who I am
but I know that you can

Before you knew
we stuck to each other like glue
now you know
you go

I thought we were in the 20 first century
where we can do things differently
it was good

I hope now you'll see
that we're not that different you and me
but no
you'd make jokes about me
if you knew
you would look at me differently too

Now you see why I cannot
tell this to people
cause you’d just
laugh laugh laugh at me
and
talk talk talk to me  

It’s true you know it
you just don’t want to admit it
you'd drift away from me like a lonely star
I’d just keep collecting small invisible scars

You know what I don’t think is fair
I've never met a princess who
Does not get kissed by a prince that is
Misleading
So we cant be exceeding

Discrimination
A new form of torture  
Just because I like someone different
It doesn't matter

We should take a stand
Stand hand in hand
I'm not going to be fanned away anymore

I don't want that to happen
So no further questions, please
This is who I am
Me

Eyes,
a violent shade of smoky grey,
intensity reflected in a singularly studious way.

At first,
a seemingly vexed connection
with us bickering constantly.
Almost too alike,
yet too different.

Midway through math,
our desks were a sea of disorder,
materials spread all over.
Poking and prodding me with a purple mechanical pencil,
a piece of lead now prominent in my skin.

7th grade-
she incessantly insisted that we should go to the “art room.”
Pulling out palettes with a myriad of paint,
I put my voice in color.
Art was like a breath of fresh air;
I could finally spill my feelings-
without words.

Now she was everything:
the moon to my sun
the peanut butter to my jelly,
the Batman to my Robin.
Until she wasn't

about two years later,
she’s flown off into another world,
the place she refers to as her “real home.”
But where’s my home without her?

An empty feeling of nagging,
a dozen painful memories,
my heart shattered into a million shards,
just like the memories that seemed so loving at first,
but now only unforgettable fragments lingering

I want to lose that last goodbye,
the icky feeling that accompanied it,
the tears that rolled reluctantly down my cheeks,
and the last thing she told me to do:

“Be happy”