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.