It eats her alive—

The guilt.

It’s tearing apart her insides

and spitting out shards of her bitter soul.

She is ashamed of letting it get this far.

She is ashamed of not knowing how to stop it.

She was feeling better; happier; lighter.

She cannot allow this.

She will not allow this.

She tells no one of her secrets;

of who she truly is,

because they will look at her and

see someone unrecognizable.

A total stranger looking back and pleading

for forgiveness she’ll never receive.

So her mind tells her that she is making everything up.

Her mind tells her that she plays a part in her own story.

But she is not an actress—she is punishing herself.

She does not think she deserves to call her traumatic experiences traumatic.

She does not deserve to ask for help

when others are struggling so much more than she is.

She has no right to be here, writing.

She has no reason,

no excuse,

for not being where she is supposed to be.

She does not deserve to be called kind

when her past mistakes were anything but.

She does not deserve to have people

think she is warm-hearted.

She is not a good egg.

She is rotten inside and cracked on the surface

so her spoiled soul is beginning to infect the air.

I'm Okay

Just a quick little notice.
Even though my words may seem really depressing or dangerous, I am not a danger to myself. I am dealing with my diagnoses in the program I attend. Don't worry too much! Most of what I write is what I feel in the moments I write them, but I'm learning to move through my emotions quickly as not to get stuck in them.

Thanks for reading! <3

Storms

Lightning strikes midnight and she is still awake.
She counts––waiting for the inevitable thunder that will echo in her skull.
She gets to five and then the crashing clouds take hold of her beating heart and it skips;
one,
two,
three beats.
She tries catching her breath only to find that her lungs were struck down during the storm.
So she swallows her words because no one will hear her whispered pleas.
She chokes back a cry of desperation, chokes back her panic, chokes, chokes, chokes.
Her heart is in her throat and her words are stuck there, too.
She wants to dislodge them,
but she fears that the only sound that will escape her lips is a strangled sob,
and nobody knows how to respond to that.
Her eyes are dry but they tell the story of why she is afraid of summer storms.
They betray her as they tell all of her secrets to everyone and no one.
She feels lost and abandoned and that's what she fears more than a little thunder.
She is tired of losing.
She shuts everyone and no one out at the same time.
She can't be abandoned if she's got nothing to lose.
And this is her life.

Too Much Thought

She thinks about her worth a lot.
Probably too much for a normal person.
She feels worthless, yes. But why?
Why does she feel so worthless that love deserves to escape her?
She thinks about how she knows she is worthy.
She just can't seem to shake the lies off.
She gives and loves and wants nothing
but love and kindness in return.
Or maybe she just wants validation and attention.
At least, that's what they say.
Maybe nothing is wrong with her at all,
and she's just making it up; making it worse for herself,
because she hates who she truly is inside.
She sees no point in going on most of the time.
She only does what she's told to do.
She was taught to always follow the rules and to obey
and respect and listen to adults.
Now she's almost 21 and she's only alive
because she doesn't want to disappoint her parents even more than she already has.
She is afraid to die.
She is afraid of never seeing the sun rise again,
or feel the wind on her face,
or dip her toes into the chilly ocean.
She read somewhere that death is just darkness.
Silent, empty nothingness.
Reading that has created so much fear in her mind, her body, her soul.
She doesn't want to be without the people she loves most.
(She has already been there, done that).
So instead of enjoying the time they have together,
she sits in a constant state of panic.
She thinks she makes herself sad and sick and broken;
(or so she says).
She thinks this is why she doesn't deserve to be loved.
She thinks this is why she doesn't deserve to feel worthy.
She thinks too much.

Drown Her

Sinking, sinking, drowning.
Drowning in her thoughts.
Thoughts of desperation.
Desperate for love.
Love escapes her grasp.
Grasping for answers.
Answers never seem to come.
Coming home to an empty house.
House is not a home.
Home isn't where the heart is.
Is there a place for her heart?
Heartbreak over and over.
Overwhelmed by her self-hatred.
Hate the way she feels.
Feeling broken.
Broken words gasping for air.
Air barely fills her lungs.
Lungs burning with every breath.
Breathing becomes difficult.
Difficulty with letting people in.
Inside her mind––a blur.
Blurry figures hiding behind tears.
Tearing up at the thought of losing herself.
She wonders why she's like this.
This is not the end.
Endings don't exist.
Existence is the unknown.
Unknowing of futures lead to fear.
Fear leads to anxiety.
Anxious hands for anxious girls.
Girl breaks down.
Downfall of a queen.
Queen of hearts shies away from kindness.
Kind words always sound like lies.
Lying in bed at night alone.
Alone with thoughts that consume.
Consuming every last light.
Lighting up the darkness.
Dark rooms and slammed doors make her cower and flinch.
Flinching at the worthless words.
Words mean nothing without power.
Power goes out in a summer storm.
Storming into the quiet house loudly.
Loud noise comes with crashing glass.
Glass scattered in the streets.
Streets have no names in sadness.
Sadness stands where she once stood.
Stood up for herself once.
Once was enough.
Enough of these drowning thoughts.
Thoughts are supposed to come and go.
'Go with the flow,' they say.
Saying isn't so.
So tired of all this grief.
Grieving for all she's lost.
Losing herself in silence.
Silent eyes find silent eyes.
Eyes fill with the water that drowns her.
Her life isn't over yet.

A Magician Never Spills Her Secrets

She is a masterful magician.
She has many fooled that her heart is warm.
She envelopes people in kind words and meaningful smiles.
She means it when she is kind.
She cares for the ones around her.
But they are just an audience.
Her secret?
She is unkind to herself.
"The world is too biter to be bitter in return," she says.
And she believes it.
That's her opening line.
They listen with intent and wide eyes; smiling in return.
They applaud her successful tricks;
They cheer her on when she fails and the secrets are out, and then magic seems lost.
She pushes herself to master the disappearing act––she never seems to see the sun now.
Her heart can't thaw in darkness.
She knows this.
She wants desperately to quit her magic act but she doesn't know anything outside of her show.
The world that surrounds her quiet room is so unfamiliar to her, so terrifyingly true and real,
That she'd rather be perfecting her madness than melt her loneliness.
Ice has begun to fill her veins slowly––
Her act of the frozen girl almost complete.
But she breaks a small window while practicing her performance
And she sees the sun for the first time in years.
She shies away from it and boards up the broken glass so the truth of her magic stays only hers.
Suddenly she realizes just how dark it is inside her head.
She wonders why it's so cold.
She wonders why she no longer wants it to be.

Silent Silver Linings

Sun sets behind mountains
slipping into long-forgotten seas.
Silence surrounding summits in a sweet surrender.
Sky fades from yellow to purple to the midnight blue that sinks down and
stains the sky.
Sun gone;
souls lost in the shadows scream in the solace of dusk.
Stars appear––sparkling in their selfish reflections.
Stories shared over flames––swapped and traded like stolen silver.
Straining to smile against the darkened sky;
shivering as the stars stare down in shame.
"Stay alive," sighs the sun.
"Stuttering whispers are not sugar-coated, but soaked in sorrow," reply the stars.
So goes the story;
swiftly as a summer storm.
Sounds of morning come like a song;
shaking sadness senseless like the trees that slowly sway in the breeze.
Stardust floats off branches into streams of sunlight.
Seldom does the sun rise shyly.
Shades of pink share secrets with the stubborn midnight sky.
Suddenly stranger are the last seconds of darkness––
stars scramble to save strength as they etch the spoken stories in stone.
Seas rise and fall no longer in stale silence.
Sun rays hold steady over the silhouettes of mountains.