There are scars on my
Body that I will never
Know where they came from.

There are tearstains on
My pillow I don’t even
Notice anymore.

I’m told I need help
But I don’t even realize
That I am broken.

Your feelings eat away at your brain

until there's no rational part left

and then your fear over comes you

takes control

and doesn't leave

until that one last breath

and then you take the plunge.

I talk to myself
A lot

Maybe It's because I know,
That I'm the only one
Who will talk to me

Only I understand what I'm saying

fear tears at me
but I cut it
but I'm trying to overcome him
fear and sadness tears me up
but I'm trying to break it
I try to overcome
I try to deal with it
once and for all
I try to overcome
I try to break it
but he will not tear me up
will not tear
will not tear
will not prevail

24.08.18

You whisper in my ear
My thoughts
And every fear

You know all my weaknesses
You see every flaw
You know all my secrets
You see all my scars

You tell me there is no future
And force me to believe in nothing

You tell me not to speak
Not to raise my hand
You tell me just to smile
Even though none is there

I am but your puppet
Nothing but a doll
You force me to want perfection
When I have none at all.
      
                    —Bella Crosthwait

When people say, "let me know how I can help,"
I always smile and nod.
It's sweet of them, and kind, but on the inside my heart

d
  r
   o
     p
       s

Later than night, when I'm curled under my desk,
hands over my ears
and the smothering weight of panic squeezes me, crushes me,
that sentence echoes.
"How can I help?"
I don't know.
I don't know.
Can you help?
Can I be helped?
I sit and ride it out, and my phone stays on the table.

The next day they ask, "are you doing better?"
I reach for my pen and scratch a smile onto my face.
Much better. Thank you for asking.
My insides are empty.