i don’t know what to say
i never know what to say

so my silence is interpreted
as abandonment

if only you could see me
on the other side of the world

i’m crying and i can’t stop
because i don’t know what to say

i am sick to my stomach
of all these panic attacks,
the butterflies are losing
their colours and their strength.

if you knew it was coming
why is it such a shock to you

why do you scream out
when you taste the words
like blood and salt on your lip

internally, of course
because you have to stay strong
you have to survive for him

why do you beat your feet numb
and claw at your skin
so maybe they’ll notice that
you’re not alright

and when they notice
and comfort you
why do you cry and cry and cry
like the world’s ending

because the world is ending
these people are your world
your world is keeping them together
long enough for them to fall in love

but the reality is
they didn’t
they won’t
they’re not going to

however hard you try
you’re not good enough
you’re not doing enough

and even though you know
that it’s not your fault
it’s nothing to do with you

you can’t help feeling
that you could’ve done better
you could have saved their life together
while saving his and hers and your own

and you know you tried
you tried your hardest at times
most of the time

but the reality isn’t going away
she doesn’t love him
and he loves her
but it’s not enough

i love him and i love her
but how much longer
can i save their lives

i walked into my 18th birthday
knowing that i was loved
understanding part of my place in this world

and i woke up on my 18th birthday
with skin covered in over 100 scars
with muscles strong enough to fight for at least a few more years

and i finished my 18th birthday
feeling the luckiest
believing that i can do this

to the little girl who 4 years ago
believed she would never see her 14th birthday
this 18th birthday is for you
don’t give up ~ you are living proof that the darkest times and most broken people can make it

well done

i love you

i have felt
like      this  
before

that my being
and          existence
of life

does attack and
physically                 p a i n
them

"we are such stuff
that             dreams
are made on"

but no-one says
that these                    d r e a m s
can go bad

that moment
when you realise
you don’t want to
**** yourself
- you want to
**** the version of
you now