I try to be stronger now.
But I killed my strongest self, several attempts ago
I push it away,
but darkness always returns;
I am reverted to the worst version of myself.


She is 16 and sobbing out her sorrows in her bathtub,
to her favorite razor and a bottle full of pills.
She is self-destructing but, she can't say why.
Someone else's words have cut out her tongue.
Her mouth bleeds out their words against her,
trying to save herself she locks her jaw into a smile, that lies to everyone around her that she's fine.
But, her body fills with their hatred and she learns to loathe herself
Slowly, her heart is smothered and her mind breaks.
She becomes so full that she burst at the wrist, just to get some relief.


I return to the present,
I've made a mistake.
I am too weak again to this world.
I look at myself in the mirror.
I watch the blood on the counter make small pools from my wrists.
And I give into it.
I will never fully be myself again.
I have killed myself too many times,
Sometimes I wish my body wasn't too stubborn to die.