Please Forgive...

 

Please Forgive…

 

 

Please forgive the lies, those lies, you realized were real lies in your eyes.

Forgive my tick, my tick that flicks when you click my impatience.

Please try to forgive the tears I’ve cried, my hands tied down to the chair of stupidness.

Forgive me, for the different masks I’ve worn, my face torn into pieces.

Please forgive me for looking at that mirror, glaring, starring preparing,

To attack, smack, break, can’t take this make-up of me. So I’ll take the make-up off me.

Forgive my scars across my heart that left marks on my inner wrists, forgive my fists that ball, punch walls and doors to settle the score between love and hate.

 Forgive me for wasting your time, “I’m fine.”

In line you waited behind the dozens of people I’ve said that line to.

Please forgive me when I tell you I’m not beautiful because the thought of me actually being pretty is new to me.

Forgive me when I say I’m lonely, or I feel alone all the time, because I’m by myself in my mind, and behind the doors of my thoughts are secrets kept, swept underneath my rug of uncertainty,

My insecurity gets the best of me, so please forgive me.

Forgive my darkness.

Forgive me awkwardness.

Forgive my serial killer mentality, hunting down and killing off my confidence and any compliment I receive.

It seems like I bring myself to low points and at this point I need a high point.

The distance between my high point and my low point is a long line of self-awareness, doubtfulness, and weakness.

I digress.

There’s been progress, my confidence is higher I guess.

You’ll be impressed by how many things you don’t know,

What you should know,

But what I won’t show.

My bleeding heart, my confused image of myself.

“Love thy self”

Lord please forgive me, for I have sinned.

Trying to die earlier then intended is a sin, trying to force pain upon my body is a sin.

Please forgive my dark thoughts, my depressed ways.

Forgive those who attempt the same attempts I’ve attempted.

Forgive those who bring themselves to the ground, buried underground with tomb stones above their heads.

Forgive the knives they’ve used to cut and bleed out their tears and sadness.

Forgive the pills that swim in the stomach of the teenage girl lying on the bathroom floor unaware of her sad mother’s face.

Forgive the flower you pace next to my grave of depression with a stone of terrible self-esteem

Please forgive me when I say…my body, my mind, my soul…can’t stay.

I’m sure they’ll be happy anyway…

Comments

Need to talk?

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