One More

Is it from the mind,
or does it comes from your body?
The hate and discontent with yourself,
the scars and the cuts.
Do you control this feeling?
Or does it control you?
The overwhelming feeling of hatred,
and unworthiness.
Hiding from everything,
even your family and friends
and when they suspect,
you tell them you’re okay.
You sit in your room in the darkness,
like the one your mind is in,
music blasting so no one can hear you cry,
as you mark yourself with battle scars.
You walk around in public with a smile,
and long sleeve shirts in happy colours,
when you would prefer to be alone,
where you don’t have to hide.
You feel the sting with every name,
but when push comes to shove,
you yell and howl and screech,
but the names get worse.
You can’t take anything anymore;
you write a note,
saying how you love everyone
and pull out the rope.
One more knot.
One minute.
One more bit of pain.
One more tear.
One more.


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