they tell you.

Inhale for one, two, three, four.

The words,

“just calm down,” 

echoing in my head;

my eyes seeing only red.

Blood drips.

Exhale on five and six. 

How many times?

How often do you change minds?

Happy to sad,

happy to mad.

Seven and eight come and I’m screaming,

“help me.” 

As loud as my cries ring,

the only response I get 

is the voice inside my head saying,

“I wish you were dead.” 

I try to fight it 

but it’s too loud.

My head hurts;

it’s pounding.

But I breathe, breathe, and breathe again.

No one can save me but myself.

So I inhale for one, two, three, four;

exhaling on five and six,

repeating the steps until i’m fixed.

It’s temporary,

I know,

but progress is progress and now

i’ve crossed more of the road.


This poem is about: 


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