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Aug 2015
What do I even say?

I ask myself this,
every time I write on here.
I come here,
to share my story,
and read about others,
because they are beautiful,
even in their pain.
When I have pain,
I just have this urge,
to say something, to be heard.
But what do I even say?

Last year,
I fell head over heels,
for a girl when I met her.
We laughed together,
shared small jokes,
tiny secrets.
I wanted to ask,
her to be my girl.
But what do I even say?

Fast forward a bit,
to a time where,
I didn't see the point,
of having friends,
so I left them behind,
but some of them didn't.
They would always,
try to get me out of my room,
even though I didn't want to,
because I was scared to be around,
people since I didn't know what to do.
But what do I even say?

Then we arrive at my realization,
that I've trapped myself in my own world,
with no way out, no way to love,
no way to hate, no way to feel at all.
So I turned to drawing lines on my wrist,
to prove that I was even still human,
that I still could feel something.
And I looked in a mirror,
because I wanted to tell myself something.
But what do I even say?

Now those lines have become,
a safety net that I run to when I'm scared,
and new lingering thoughts of pill bottles,
begin to appear in my mind.
So I ask for help,
and I'm sent off to meet with a person,
once a week to talk about my feelings.
Waiting for the day that the meds come,
and I can talk to them, but my parents.
What do I even say?
Ben McDermott
Written by
Ben McDermott  Kansas City
(Kansas City)   
182
   marie-laure
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