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Pessimistic

I’m trying so hard to take on this fight, not to give up, make it through the night. But it seems as every step I take forward is two steps back. My head is full of words, my body is under attack. I’m battling this war inside my mind but the battle wounds I try so hard to hide. I die inside every time there’s a new wound. I cry each night wondering what I can do. It’s hard to put up a fake smile every day, to force myself to laugh and joke around, when really I feel like I’m already six feet underground. Some days I want to fall in a deep sleep from which I never wake up.  I’m trying to fight but I’m slowly giving up. Have you ever sat in a dark room with your music loud so no one hears your screams, no one hears a sound? I have, more than I can count, this is hopeless for me, and I don’t even know why I’m trying. I guess I do it for my family but they don’t even know that I’m dying.  Should I just give up or should I keep trying? Every day is a struggle I’m tired of lying. Lying to everyone I know and who cares because I can’t bear the looks that I get, the pain that I cause, the questions after questions, they want me to explain it all. They want me to stop, they say just quit. Don’t tell me what to do you’re not going through this shit. Don’t you think if I could stop, if I could quiet I would have done it? You don’t understand how hard it is for me not to feel a cold sharp razor across my skin. How not to think about putting my life to an end. I don’t see why I’m here this world has nothing for me, but somehow some way I just can’t leave. It’s tearing me apart; I’m being rapped limb by limb. I’m damaged inside but all the damage ends up on my skin. I’m not smart about it anymore, but I still know how to hide. It seems as my whole life is nothing but a lie. I walk around like everything is alright, when deep down I’m crying, screaming, dying inside. I don’t know how many times I can say to myself “I’m not okay, but I don’t need any help”. My lies get so good to the point where you have to believe me, you tell me I’m beautiful but I don’t see it. I’m beating myself down without any reason. “It’ll get better” that’s what they say, but I know at the end of the day I’ll start to think and when I think I get lost and when I get lost I start to fall, I start to spiral into the deep dark abyss of my mind doomed to the fate that awaits me. Forever pained physically and mentally. You say I’m not alone, that you’ll be here, but you’re not there when I isolate in the bathroom, you’re not there when I’m screaming and crying in my room. You’re not there on those dark, hopeless nights, you’re not there to help me put up a fight. So don’t tell me your there when you’re not, don’t tell what I need to stop, because you don’t understand how this feels. You don’t understand and you never will.

(2014)

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