Just Remember youll never see the side of me that's broken
I can promise you right now with my hands on your form of the Bible that you'll only hear of it
You'll see it in my texts or hear it in my voice
If you get lucky you'll be able to read my body language and listen hard enough to the screaming within my brain and figure out I'm in distress
But other than this I'll never let you see ime broken
I'll ask for a favor I've never cashed in because I always want nothing know return
I'll ask you to pray to your God or goddess that keeps you well in mind and ask of them to watch over me
I'll ask you to give me the space to breathe and gather my thoughts before I make a major decision
I'll begin and plead for your forgiveness once that decision has been made because
I know it was the wrong one

Just remember you'll never see me broken
But you'll always hear about it
You'll hear about the scars on my wrists or the pains in my thoughts
You'll hear about the throbbing behind my eyes and the spot where between my brow wrinkles because suddenly, it's not because of a smile
Its because of tears
Just remember you'll never see me broken
Unless you walk in on me because I forgot to lock the door
Then maybe
You'll hear what my heart and head are screaming to say

Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

I sit on the step
And draw
The cold around me
Like a blanket,
Savouring the numbness
And the heat
That begins within.
Swallowed by the night
Drunk on wine
And stars.
Hot tears on cold cheeks.
Seasoning for
Chapped lips
Stinging
Bringing fresh tears.
I take refuge
In the silence,
Under the gaze of
Sympathetic eyes.
My friends.
My constant companions.
Drunk on wine
And stars.

She's very much alive
But she is dead to me
The decision wasn't mine
She wanted to be
A tombstone in my mind
A grave inside my heart
A perpetual funeral
That has no end or start
There is no wreath to set
No flowers to lay
The only place that this exists
Is buried in my wake