There are few things so cruel as the curse of night time
for on this day, I worked in the hot sun
and cordially spoke with friends on this evening,
we laughed and played and said horrible things that, were we in mixed company,
would have been pushed into the recesses of our minds
to be texted out later.
But the night!
It is not a stalking wolf
not like fear-
that is merely the space between my eyes and the rest of the world when the lids are shut.
On no
it is an old friend,
the sorrows borne of
of
of what?
Fists at my brow?
Lips on my flesh?
Or the curse of my own biology?
No matter! I digress.
The old friend, waiting to turn a nice day into a heart ache.
He's drinking again, and that shouldn't matter to me.
It isn't in excess,
I'm just puritanical, I know,
and for once I'm not having a **** panic attack over it,
but I hurt.
I ache.
This is dumb, it is foolish
it is childish.
Childish! Childish!
Cowardly
What worth is my pain?
Tuesday, it will be a year since I hurt myself,
and I'm not going to again because I have someone I love who cares about me
and doesn't just treat my hurt like it's a ploy for attention
(if it were a ploy, I wouldn't be posting this on a poetry website,
it would be facebook
with tags for the people who put me here).
But seriously though,
what does it matter if I am in pain?
Depression, for me, has always been a matter of
1) ignore the urges
2) cover the symptoms.
Even when I was hurting myself,
I would make the marks look like I had fallen off of my bike or some **** like that,
so my parents would scold.
They never worried
it was just annoying to them.
Annoying?
To you?
**** it, I'm the one having this happen!
But then, you are carting me from doctor to doctor to shrink and back again,
you're the ones that the school calls when I get into fights and I try and **** myself in the locker room.
So I guess I am a burden.
But I'd be more of a burden if I was dead,
because then you'd have to explain to everyone
and my love would be ruined
and my parents would have to pay to bury their girl
and
and
and
**** it, what am I supposed to do?
I knew this would happen,
I don't understand
I'm not particularly smart, or wise, or anything.
I'm just kind hearted.
That's what I do.
So what do I do?
Ah.
Whatever.
I guess I just go to sleep.