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would you believe me
if i spoke to you
in a sleepless haze
about the demons
that were coming for me?
because i cannot speak to anyone,
no professional or familiar.
they do not believe
in the way that i do,
and they don't feel the night
like you do.

what is going on in my head?
i can't breathe this morning
but i am full of life tomorrow.
i feel my brain collapse into itself
as i collapse into the floor
and into my own blood and tears.
i am in love with all of this
i am in love with the sadness
and the shortness of breath
and the panicking
and i am in love with the cuts
and burns
all in little straight lines
down my arms
legs
hips
i am in love
with the way i can swallow a meal
and bring it up an hour later
and the way i can take a painkiller
(or thirty-five)
and keep them down
and not be sure
whether i'm high off of pills
or off of my own sadness in the air.

i do not know what love is.
i don't believe anymore
that "it gets better"
because i have been living
yet not alive
and i still believe
that if i wasn't so tired
all
the
time
i'd **** myself
and finally feel ******* relieved.
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