you tell everyone you are fine.
you are taking your meds.
you are smiling and laughing
you are agreeing to *** because sometimes it’s painful and you can’t hurt yourself anymore.
you are saying “have a wonderful day” with a smile while you work.
but the nighttime hits,
and you’re in bed numb.
maybe you decide to take an extra sleeping pill to knock you out,
but instead it just makes you high,
and you’re okay with that.
you try to tell someone that you are not okay.
they don’t seem to care. they don’t want to help.
your dog ends up coming into your room,
and you use her fur as a tissue to soak up all the tears that fall.
you whisper between sobs,
“i am not enough”
“i am not enough for him”
“i am nothing”
“i don’t want to be here”
“i don’t want to be here”
“i don’t want to be here”
she just puts her head down and doesn’t seem to care either.
you have nothing.
you have nobody.
would another cut really matter?
would killing yourself really matter?
you’ll put that smile back on your face the next day.