I’m here again. Dark place empty space
Smiling and a fake face.
Good great facade to save me from the questions I refuse to hear.
Are you Okay? And the advice that comes after.
I feel the rhythm in my chest dance differently
A new song
A sound I dreadand feel it coming
I know I will be dead.
I know that if I am deaf to the calling of my lungs starving for air and the tightening of my chest
Sleep won’t come easy
And my waking will make me wish for death.
I know this dark place and this sensation as it creeps upon my bed
As it infiltrates the sacredness of my thoughts.
I know this darkness as it seeps into my feet and devours every blood cell, hoping in the travels of my blood it makes it to my heart.
And so it does.
And as I will the strength to fight it,
Hot tears burn my cheeks and I gasp for air as one would in the ocean when they can’t swim.
It’s like I see the shore and I sense the help but it isn’t enough. It never is.
And I hear the dark infused blood cells applaud me as I give in.
As my lungs are injected with the poisons of inadequacy, my limbs become jelly and cold.
So I sink into bed, heavy hearted,
Breathless,
Craving an ear to listen and a hug to melt into.
I resort to profound cussing
In the hopes to bleed it out.
But I can’t.
So I pull it the blades and start on my thighs.
Cutting one line after the other, praying that this pain will “out-pain” the inability to be enough.
Four lines on the left,
Four lines on the right.
I bring up the blade and four centimeters from my wrist, on my forearm
I begin to cut. And cut. And cut.
And somehow in the literal bleeding,
I find that the darkness leaves in the form of the red in my blood.
My heart dances to save me,
My chest in a familiar rhythm and I might have saved me.
But this dark place
A saving, a fake face
And questions I refuse to embrace.
Shadows&Water 