i walked downstairs to my room
and cried the way i had taught myself.
curled up in a ball
tears dripping to the ground
gripping the floor
screaming
crying
yelling
but never heard.
silent.
i would never wake my family!
why, that would be mean.
so i cry.
silently.
and rip my hair out
and try not to cut
and punch the floor
and hug myself
and punch myself
and hate myself and feel so, so sorry for the little boy who had to deal with this.
for myself.
i hate this

I’m stuck on a screen
“It’s always the phone” the adults say
I mean are they wrong?
I am always on it

I look around my room my mother complains isn’t “clean”
I was up scrolling till 2 in the morning yesterday
I mean has it really been the phone all along?
All it encourages me to do is quit

Have I finally “matured” enough to realize it’s making my mind a sick green?
I look around my room from the bed I lay
Is it the phone that makes me feel like I don’t belong?
That throws me inside a pit?

I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry you lied
I'm sorry for nights when I left your side
I'm sorry that I was the cause of your grief
Blind to your hurt as I chased my relief

I love you. I love you. You'll always be mine
I'm sorry I made you think you had to hide
I'm sorry that two years has made such a rift
I'm sorry for all the days I spent adrift

I'm sorry that I was the reason for hate
I'm sorry my back turned while you lay awake
I'm sorry my actions have led you astray
Just come back to me, I promise I'll stay

The world is a sick place
I say as my fingers begin to trace
The scars are unfortunately showing
And the blood has stopped flowing

I try to cover them,
Try to hide from where my problems stem
But its only a matter of time till someone sees,
Will they treat it like a disease?

Who knows, who cares
Maybe I'll "accidentally" trip down the stairs
Will anyone actually give a ****?
Will they see I've 'taken a hit?'

I'm done caring I tell my reflection in the mirror
As the knife traces over my skin but I don't see myself any clearer
But just like clockwork I feel the slice
And I still wonder if hiding my pain will suffice.

I get anxious,
Don't we all?
I act so unsuspicious,
I'll try and pretend its just a quick fall

Suddenly I see it right in front of me
Will it set me free?
Only one way to find out
Lets hope I don't knockout

Once is an accident
Its just an incident
Twice and the scar forms
No reforms

I feel the slice
Its like I'm rolling the dice
I see the blood drip
Lets hope I don't trip

I'll wear a sweater to hide this "mistake"
I can't let anyone see me break

Step 1: Smile.
Step 2: Forget why.
Step 3: Keep your voice steady
when your soul is not.
Step 4: Pretend it’s fine.
(Everyone else is.)

Step 5: Fold your feelings
into paper birds.
Set them loose.
Watch them burn mid-air.
Clap softly.
Repeat.

There is no final step.
You just keep going
until you don’t know
what breaking feels like anymore.