This is the worst time
to be thinking about
Quitting.
My mind thinks of **** as my
face is red and my teeth grit.
I feel the nerve in my arms to
punch you and claw your face.
Maybe you should be the one
bleeding noticeably this time.
I am sick of the haters hating
and the babies crying.
I want to cry with the little babies
but I have to forget that I live with
something.
Even though I use my words and
they are heard but never listened,
I know someone will want to.
I'll keep going,
I'll be here,
I won't lose control.
You're not going to bleed,
as long as you do for me
as well as you.
I like to think there is a place to be
and people to hug when something
isn't wrong.
There are, and that my friend
is you.