It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

I hold in my hands...
The mean things people say to me
Each one cutting me
Bit by bit
Like paper cuts
Not doing much damage on there own
But all together creating a deep ****.

At one moment, your depression is telling you that you don't care what happens. Then the next moment, your anxiety is screaming and clawing at you to do something. Having depression and anxiety is a constant war inside of yourself. Though, there are no winners.

there is still
space
for love in your
sadness.

I think I made you up inside my head and gave you a name so you’d come alive. I put mirrors behind your eyes to see them shine. I built a fire under your skin to feel the warmth that I could never find. I saved electricity for your fingertips and poison for your lips and a metronome for your heart.

I made you up inside my head, I gave you life in my heart, I made you real with wishes.

But nobody as beautiful and destructive as you can survive a resurrection only conjured of dreams, and so you let me go.

pulling up to the lot, walking up to the doors
every instinct in me is yelling, screaming for me not to go inside
right in the front of the room, is a picture of you
the person we all knew: a jokester, an easy going, happy person
or so we thought
your friends are all crying, you can see the heartbreak on their faces
and i dont really like crying in public, so i try to hold back
but the tears wont keep themselves contained; they demand to be let out
i meet your mom for the first time, and wow does she look just like you
i smile for her, try to suppress the true emotions im feeling for her
cause god knows how she must be feeling right now
i see you inside the casket, and my stomach drops as i remember the first time we talked, the last time we talked, and everything in between
i wonder if i missed a signal or a sign that couldve clued me in to how you were truly feeling inside
and before i know it, it's my turn to say goodbye for the last time
but i cant stay there long; i cant look at you too deeply because truthfully i dont see you. i see an empty shell, a clone, a fake of what is supposed to be you but simply isnt you.
we hug everyone goodbye
we tell each other to be safe and that we'll be in touch soon
and then we leave
and that is all.