pain

it's always bad

until it's back

until you feel it

again

for the twelfth time and maybe

again

 

it’s worse when it’s back

hands shaking

there’s a burden on my chest

i can’t breathe

my shoulders dense

i’m drowning

 

i’m deep in a cave

blacked out

invisible

it’s too much to control

i’m lost

i find myself carving

lines on my thighs

where it’s easier to hide

 

i’m crying

not for help but the veins inside me burst in pain

im dying

or i wish it could be that way

This poem is about: 
Me

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