My chest hurts Like daggers in every rib. But even more than that My soul is crying. My soul, It’s d y i n g. I know no other fate than to bleed Though I am surrounded by people who filter my life With love. With grace With hope.
They stand ready to fight my battles Armed by my side Hand in hand Just a call away.
But it’s hard to see them It’s hard to care When I’m on the battleground In the war that is defeating me.
It’s hard to reach out When I’ve reached out a million times. And I should be getting better But is it fair to throw my pain on them every night?
My soul was on fire Not with life Not with joy But with a slow burn Of pain and despair That widdled my heart to ash.
A battleground my mind once was, Chaos that shot agony through my head A thousand miles an hour.
It’s almost quiet now But I can almost see the blackness, Hear the silence, Feel the void.
And when you feel so empty And the smallest flutters of feelings appear, But they come to crush you, Not to save you... The darkness, The silence, The void, They become real. And the blood drips down my arm.
I do not understand why I am like this When I am getting help When there is hope When this “will not last forever.” I made the decision to stay alive So the pain would not disperse But now I suppose My choice may be overridden If the pain that is trapped inside Decides to **** me. My body is already decaying on its own But now I am helping it. Why am I helping it?
I believed that talking would help That hugs would help That being honest would help That showing my hurt would help.
That maybe my friends could carry me And lighten my load Just enough so I had strength to keep walking.
I do not understand How it feels like a disaster is tearing me apart But I am getting stronger Not in healing But in keeping it all inside.
I’m not that honest anymore. I pretend that I’m healing So they will still have hope in me. But in reality I can’t speak Even though I want to scream for help. But I don’t know what I would ask for I don’t think there is anything I could ask for.
So I remain wondering Why do I want help, If I try to stay hidden? Why do I want to speak, If I always hold my tongue? Why do I hold my tears, If I just want them to see me cry? Why do I tell them I’m better, When sometimes I still feel like dying?
I want to ask To please keep me in mind But that never healed me And I know you are busy.
So I count down the days The number until I see you next But it doesn’t matter much anyway Because I will be faking a smile And when you ask me “how are you?” I will reply “Good!” Because I know you have things to do And I know my sorrow takes time. I understand it is annoying To always hear I’m in darkness So I tell you I’m in light But God help me! I am dying inside! Don’t you know that? Can’t you know without me saying so? No. Because even if I did You still would not understand. You still would not know.
This is not a joke. This is not a game. This is not an exaggeration. But when I hide it so well And speak it so darkly I understand how it may seem so. But trust me darling You have not seen the sleepless nights Shuddered awake with terror Shaking like drunk cold chills (Wishing I was drunk so I could feel less) Tears pouring like a C5 hurricane And the pain? Well, I can’t describe it any other way Than my body dying.
But tell me now, Is the blood that exits my skin That drips down to hell Scars as a sticky note To remind me forever, Is that blood Real enough?
I am supposed to help myself. To help myself heal. To help myself grow. To help myself find joy And life And purpose And hope. But don’t you see, I am helping myself?
I am hurting myself But as my body dies In the dark of the night And I let it leave a little quicker I am helping myself. It’s the only way I know how to, Even if it may not last forever.