Real

Make something happy,

Speak from your heart

But not the emotions that bring the truth

the truth in my trauma

No it’s not trauma

It’s not a crisis

It’s not an emergency 

It’s not important 

You know what else is not important 

Me

My life

My goals

My actions

My kindness

My care

My feelings

Me

I’m not 

Well I don’t believe 

I don’t believe in myself 

I don’t think I will be anything

I don’t think I could change 

I don’t think I could be anything 

Do anything

Try anything

Be who others believe in

“Be nice” 

“Be kind”

“Be good”

“Be yourself”

Have you seen me.

Being myself only brings trouble

Being myself is a crossroad

Being myself is a signed contract

With the devil

Being myself 

Brings a sliver of hope that’s invisible to me

Others see

Others know

Others feel

Others hear

Others think

Me

Myself

And I

We don’t know anything 

We sit in circle 

We try our best

we get what we deserve 

we lose more than we win

We struggle, yet we do it alone.

Asking for help is not like others,

The actions we do is the voice we have

Speaking up doesn’t exist 

Showing our pain is the truth

If I’m not actively hurting 

It’s not real

It’s not a priority 

It’s not

I have to be physically in pain for it to be considered 

Real.

My Dream Come True

Staring at the same spot

Whether it’s the floor

The sky

The tiles on the the ceiling,

The scars that line my arm,

The emptiness 

The vague confusion 

That the storm has passed

Yet it hasn’t

We’re in the eye

The frozen expanse

That freezes all movement

Stops the motion of anxiety

Or stress

The overwhelming chill that the worse has happened on the outside

But it’s the inside that has to fight for its life

To survive

Is this the wake up call

Is this the moment where I can take a deep breath 

Even though each breath will slowly suffocate me

The shards of my guilt 

Like shards of glass

Cutting down my throat 

The reason I can’t speak up is because I have no voice

The pain is too sharp

But that’s okay

Pain is barely there

I’ve seen others pain and their response

Its different 

It’s all different 

But thats human

That’s what we get for living

For being unique

For being alive

If we felt nothing are we really alive.

I’m sorry

I’m sorry I got off topic

This fleeting floating moment is a pause,

But knowing me, I will relapse

Again and again

A never ending cycle

For me that’s fine

For others it’s gonna be the end of me

Well okay

As long as I get the last word

That’s fine by me.

Being here 

Being in the now 

It’s fine but 

Being gone

Being away from here 

Might just be my dream

Come True

What Little HOPE

Dark clouds move on,

Dark thoughts drift to the back of the mind

The storm has passed

But the damage lingers

It lingers in the new scars lining my arm

It lingers in the eyes of strangers when they see and ask if I’m okay.

It lingers in the mind when I look at them and know this relapse will not be the last

This will never be the last cut,

Will never be the last scar

Will never be the last breakdown

Will never be the last moment where I call out for help through my actions.

Because using my voice doesn’t work.

I physically feel a type of pain when I ask for help.

My thoughts Yell at me that my priority is a 1 out of a 10.

That my crisis is not worth the help from others

That my pain is meaningless 

That my emotions don’t matter

That my voice will not be heard

And so I the only way I know how to ask for help is through my actions

The actions of bleeding

Actively bleeding 

Because if I’m not bleeding then I’m not worth it.

Because if I’m not bleeding, then I’m not an emergency 

Because if I’m not bleeding then there is no proof to my mental health

Because if I’m not Bleeding it’s all in my head

Because if I’m not bleeding 

My life does not matter

My existence is not real

My kindness is fake

My empathy is manipulated 

My life is wearing a mask

And when that mask is ripped from my face all you see is someone who tries their best and fails

It’s funny because my middle name is HOPE, yet I have little Hope for myself

I Can’t

 I lied

I lied to manipulate my way out

I lied to leave

I lied to have my own interest persist

I hate

I hate myself

I listen to my thoughts that I’m better off not

I know that I can’t leave 

I can’t leave my family

I can’t leave my friends

I can’t leave 

But I really want to leave

But for now I can’t.

All I can do is put on a mask,

Remove my emotions and

Fall back into old habits

Blade

Skin

Blood

Water

Clean

Repeat

See Something, Say Something

 If im not actively bleeding

Im If im not actively bleeding

Im fine

Im fine that the crinkle in my eyes hide tears

I’m fine that the smile I share holds back cries

I’m fine.

If blood is not dripping down my arm

No one takes a second look

If blood doesn’t drop on the ground then it’s not real

My emotions aren’t real

My kindness isn’t real

My thoughts are the only thing that I have

The thoughts that have me 

Putting blade to skin

The thoughts that has me

Laying dead 

The thoughts that 

Destroy what little hope I have

The thoughts that

I’m better off not 

Not here

Not home

Not safe

Not kind

Not human

Human, ha

I laugh

I laugh until they turn to tears

I laugh until I feel my breath catches 

I start to choke, 

But it’s fine

I’m fine

I’m fine to watch to see what others don’t

I’m fine to see people mind there business 

I’m fine to see the stares but not the voice

Not the voice to ask

Are you okay?

To persist to see the soul that cracks

I’m fine

I will always be fine

I will be alone

I will be scared

I will be tired

I will not have the strength to speak up

I will be alone to the very end

I beg people to see something 

To speak up and say something 

To not hide behind the screens

To avoid the business of others

To see the broken and the glue but 

To walk away.

So here i sit,

Alone

New scars on top of old fine