I'm used to myself and not getting help because I'm way up the
shelf and none of you can reach.

I try to talk, I break the walls that build up again so no one can breach.

I set my moods on fire so I can say that I'm not tired,
so I can say that I'm fine and I don't cry sometimes at night.

Funny how I water down the frown forming on my face,
set my lips to a sincere smile and it's the best lie I don't have to say.

People surround me and they laugh too, but they're all corpses designed to look like clowns:

watering down their frowns and putting on a facade of youth and energy.

I know they're tired, too.

I know they too suffer from the same pretense I have to go through when I'm not being me.

Hunger
Wolves gnawing at my stomach
Pain
With every move and twist of my body
Burning me inside

I want to eat
I need to eat
But I can’t
When I do
Just a bite

One swallow
I feel full
It’s an empty full
Then I puke
It all comes out

Gross acidic taste
The wolves keep eating me from the inside out
Lightheaded and dizzy
Am I okay?
I’m lost in the stomach

Slit my wrists; hope to die
Take some pills; start to cry
Knot the rope; pull it tight
Put a bullet in my mind

I'm okay
I'm not okay

I don't need you
I do need you

Don't leave me alone
I don't want you around

Help me
I'm good at my own.

I am tired of
Pretending I'm okay when
I really am not.

I’m fine, except for when you look at me
I’m fine, except for when I hear your name
I’m fine, except for when I think of us
I’m fine, except for when I see my replacement
I’m fine, except for when I see how fast you moved on
I’m fine, except for the fact that I’m not