I am.


I am quiet
because were I to open my mouth
and let out the sugardemons
crouching behind my teeth,
they would make you cry.

I am tired
because were I to stay awake
for an hour or so more
I’d get even more upset,
and eventually off myself.

I am not hungry
because were I to eat
just a tiny bite
I’d have to claw out my stomach,
and bury it in the snow.

I am cold
because were I to remove my sweater
and bare my skin to the spring
you’d see my pale arms,
and the secrets I inscribe there.

I am busy
because were I to sit and talk with you
you’d see my real face
and then you’d say,
is everything all right?

I am dreaming
because were this to be reality
I’d have nothing left to live for.


Need to talk?

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