One of the hardest things I do
Is talk to you.
It doesn't happen until I snap,
And all hell breaks loose.
I try to tell you,
But the words are impossible to find.
When I do my best it is dismissed.
What I don't tell is what should worry you.
From my lingering and longing stare
Torward the shining metal on the counter.
That I am afraid of myself.
How I realize that I could disappear,
Just fall asleep and never wake up.
That I feel trapped inside my head,
Where I am worthless.
Where I am weak.
Where I am a failure.
I won't tell you
That I have thought of self harm,
But am either too strong,
or perhaps even too weak to act.
That I have thought of skipping meal,
But lack the will power, and mentality to do so.
That I stay up at night,
Stuck in a vicious cycle of questions,
Where I question my value,
And what the world would be like
If I were to just disappear.
I take your advice, and I hear you,
But I do with a grain of salt,
For you only seem to understand a fraction.
A much deeper emotion I keep away.
A much harsher reality is here to stay.
I don't tell you,
Because I can not.
Look for more,
Because a lot happenes behind closed doors.