Dear Water Cup Boy, Here’s an Update

The doctor says I have insomnia,but your face is the knocking of tree branches on my window keeping me awake at night.The therapist says I’m just claustrophobic,but your voice is the obsidian black closing in on me.I feel I cannot breathe.I choke out screams.Can anyone hear me?Dear god, please tell me someone can.My lungs are collapsingand I don’t think I’ll make it to the hospital in time to be saved.Suicideis not always wrapping a thick rope around a delicate neckor slitting smooth wrists with the sharpest knife. Suicideis secrets kept behind closed lipsand my mind is a heap of unkempt thoughtsI swore would never leave my tongue.You uttered the wordsI love youtoo many times,the library files it as fiction.I refused to believe love was just a fable taleso I searched for love in all the wrong places.I gladly walked into a garden of danger,because that’s the only place I knew love grew.You taught me that. I was a lost sheep mangled in thorns,sacrificed by a messiahwho wore a cloak as black as the night sky,but without all the stars.My body became a temple that served one purpose:to worship you.The daily required fasting,the deprivation of nutrients,slipped me into comasI felt only you could resurrect me from.They say,“God is dead. Religion is a trap.”Oh how I wish you were dead,but without you,without the entrapment of your biblical verses,I again,am a lost sheep. I don’t know what to do and it terrifies me.Will I always be like this?Will I always notice your presence in the roombefore I even notice the room itself?Will I always have a frog in my throatwho’s given up on ribbiting?The cat is not the one who’s got my tongueit’s you.Like a serial killer you always take a part of your victimto keep as some sort of trophy.They say someone cannot take from you unless you allow them to.I allowed you into my housenot knowing you were a vampire waiting to suck my soul dry.Is it my fault that I’ve been cursed for all eternity to walk among this earth as a ghost?Stuck in purgatory,I have yet to pick a side.I walk the fine line betweenblaming youand forgiving you.I think I’ll be here forever. 

This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741