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Oct 2014
This year marks my seventeenth birthday .
But I have 7 times that many scars
Some that mar the surface of my skin
The uglier ones being the ones buried within
That were cut with the shards of glass that fill my lungs as every breath scrapes across the barely beating drum of my heart
Creating slicing pain with every pump
Drowning from the inside out
I'm steadily sinking with each day passing
My ears ringing , yet my face smiling
Nobody will know I wasn't fine until it's too late

Sixteen years, 5 attempts
Three of which came after realizing my dad will never quit
Drinking heavily from an aluminum can
Making it impossible for us to swim
As he drowns his unknowns
Covering the floor of this place given the name of a home with a mix of eggshells and scorn that we must walk onΒ Β 
Biting my lip so hard that it stings to avoid a lash at my already low self esteem
All for simply voicing my opinion
On the list of unending responsibilities
Thrown at me by parents who play the role of a **** up better than myselfΒ Β 
Becoming numb to my situation
Bottling up the turmoil of emotions, and holding it inside like poison
My family determined to keep the illusion of happy
We're not.
And I can't remember the last time I truly was

I've experienced the pain of a razor blade
On and off again since 6th grade
I've known Pills, cuts, and knives
The pain of Daggers flying from eyes of people who were supposed to love me
Judgment coming from the ones who didn't know anything of me
Cliches of strength I threw into the faces of ones I loved
Could do nothing to degrade the hurt at the words I heard
Sixteen years of constant battering, harshly shining the light on the same insecurities
I heard countless times before
Some being screamed from the other side of my door
The truth blurting from people's lips before they even talked to me
Hiding the marks not with long sleeves
But with a convincing smile and a bubbly personality
All the while crying myself to sleep every night, repeating meaningless words to convince myself I'd be alright
Because it just had to be true.
No one's ever suspected a thing.
No one's ever knew

Almost seventeen years.
And I can only count on one hand
How many people I know who would truly give a ****
If I actually had the guts to go through with it all
Putting myself out of this hell I've been in ever since I became old enough to see the flaws in everything
That involves me and my existence
Saying **** it to this way of living
If I can't escape it, I won't live it.
And sometimes I doubt the chance of me leaving
Even though my heart want to hold on to the hope

As I blow out my candles on my cake and make a wish
Plastered smile on my face, my head filled with anger, sadness, and guilt
I wish that I could ******* disappear
And look around at everyone who's happy for me.
This was supposed to be helpful to me.
If anything, it made me more depressed.
Heather Sarrazin
Written by
Heather Sarrazin  Inside My iPod
(Inside My iPod)   
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