You don't know fear until
The one place that always makes you happy
Is 4,425 miles away and
You wait as each passing day
Gets you closer to never seeing it again

You don't know fear until
The one person that always makes you happy
Won't even recognize you in 4 years and
You just look at them hoping
That will never come true

But it might.
And that's fear.

Even if I did live in my head,
You'd still be there.
Whenever I'm scared, I remind myself that you wouldn't want me to be scared, so then I remember;
I know that I'll be okay anywhere.

My eyes are not sunlit windows to my own self, rather dimmed and tinted blockades to never give you a full picture. They are not a colourful array of flowers, they are dull and wilting weeds.

My lungs cannot breathe in and smell the roses because they are laced with tar, and not enough oxygen from shallow breathing. They are restricted from fulfilling out their purpose so I can feel 'okay.'

My ears will not listen to the buzzing of bees and the gentle wind- they will, however, listen to the screams between them and confuse help with hate.

My tongue does not taste of honeysuckle and mint, but rather ash and dried blood from tasting my existence. It formulates words laced with too much sleep and too little self care.

My fingertips do not touch as if I am handling the daintiest of flower petals, instead they trace a gravestone between my ribs with a purpose. They tear at my own skin and hair, or at least try to.

Do not devalue my battleground of a body by comparing it to a garden

Every 40 seconds
someone in the world dies of suicide

Every 41 seconds
someone is left to make sense of it