This beer in my throat,

colder than my ex’s heart,

while I lay strung out in a new lovers

arms.

I’ve been rooted with depression since I was born.

I never knew what it was, but I could feel the sadness and shame engulf my small body every time I heard that voice.

My dad, a shadow I occasionally saw on the walls, always fading down the hall.

Mom, trying to keep it all together for two girls she’d struggle to raise on her own.

The lies we were spoon fed about our father before we could even talk.

The mental and emotional abuse of the years that would follow from the person who raised me.

Afraid to be true to myself because I was told that everything I did was wrong, that I was dumb.

Asking questions I felt were important to me because anxiety and ocd rooted their way into my body before I was even a teen.

Learning to mask my feelings and emotions from that voice because I didn’t want to feel like there was something wrong with me.

I didn’t want you to see that there was something wrong with me.

It doesn't take back all the unforgiving words I've said, while I stand beneath the scorching water of the shower head.

Gentle kisses to my skin, a sting that feeds my adrenaline.

I'm just a stupid moth being drawn to the flame.

I get hurt, yet I still play the game.

She uses me and makes me feel empty.

I'm living in the carved out body of the person I used to be.

The mask I wear perceives the illusion that I am happy.

The loneliest I've ever felt when I hold her body in my hand.

Every night, she lures me into her trap like quicksand.

And I bleed for her again.

I've come to terms and accepted that I will never be okay.

I've tried to dismiss every harsh word my mouth begins to say.

The screams and words that my brain bleeds convinces me to hurt.

He thinks that I'm unhappy, that his love can save me.

But he doesn’t know about all the nights I spend in agony.

He doesn’t know how many nights I cry to the unforgiven moon.

Insomnia, a sharp pinch upon my dreams while she rocks me harshly to sleep.

Her lullaby’s the sound of my fast heartbeat.

Anxiety doesn’t go away even after we’re asleep.

She robs me of my dreams and takes me to a place I’ve seen too many times.

She lies and she disguises her lies with whys.

She blames and she shames until I’m convinced that she is right.

Day after day, I give in to her games and she wins every time.

She takes me out to the deep end knowing I want to die.

Yet I kick my arms and legs.


And swim.

self harm is only washing your hands with cold water

crossing the street without looking for cars

touching hot pans because you want them to burn

staying up late and depriving yourself of sleep because you don’t deserve it

self harm is hearing you say violent things to me and not caring

because I deserve to hear them and I believe you when you say them

infinite
infinite black
infinite red

red seeping from the wound that covers my skin

my heart beats to the lifeless sting

sting
hurt
sad

you left me

nothing
betrayal
regret

infinite and nothing

Snoozing the alarm clocks hit the highest record today, congratulations.

We got out of bed after the sixth one went off, then continued to lay in bed until the seventh one blared through.

We opened the blinds at two in the afternoon.

We went downstairs and didn't eat until 4pm, congratulations it's practically dinner time.

Our anxious hands spilt the coffee we carried into the living room because we only got five hours of sleep.

We spent the whole evening completing six chores because we had no energy to get up from the floor.

Our night consisted of us hiding away in our bedroom until insomnia washed over us and rocked us harshly to sleep yet another night.

Congratulations.