"and now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good."

I used to cry for you
But now I only cry for me

As if I didn't feel your eyes following my every move

I am the queen of what ifs
Sitting on a throne of could've beens

My fears are my loyal subjects
Escorting my dreams to the gallows

My ambitions are now prisoners
To my court of procrastination

I, the queen
Reign over all of this regret

first it's the shock
you can't even believe it.
then comes the anger
oh god the burning you'll feel inside.
you hate him and hate him and curse him
for every single happy memory
he gave you.
then the despair comes
you're awake endless hours of the night,
and you hate yourself and hate yourself and curse yourself
for allowing yourself to fall in love
with his demonic smile
and unhallowed laugh.
you cry your eyes red
your sadness takes on a physical form.
you don't eat.
you don't sleep.
you feel no compelling reason to be
alive.
the longer it was, the longer this lasts
and every time you think you're getting better,
you spiral down the drain again and
suffocate in your own grief.
you cut your skin and
your veins are trying to accommodate
all the alcohol diffusing into your blood.
you scream at the top of your lungs
you believe you are going insane
and the only thought haunting you
for the rest of your days is
"why wasn't i good enough?"
(e.s 'november fifteenth')

You joke as if I haven't attempted suicide,
as if I haven't been *****,
as if I haven't fallen down the rabbit hole.
Why do you think it's funny?
Why do you think those words don't hurt?