My eyes speak the truth when all else is a lie. No one cares enough to look past my smiling shield. No one cares enough to see me, to see my pain. No one cares enough to see that I'm slowly falling apart and that, one day, I won't be able to stop myself.
Tell me I'm worth it. Tell me I'm strong. Tell me I'm loved. Tell me I'm amazing. Tell me I'm beautiful. Tell me I'm perfect.
Tell me.
Hold me.
Save me.
Someone tell her. Someone hold her. Someone save her. But no one is there. No one will ever be there. Sticks and stones will break her bones. But words will tear her skin apart.
I can't. It's too much. Please. Help me.
No one listens. No one hears. I am by myself. And that is the worst that could happen.
She's fighting a war in her head, against herself, and the only way out is to live or die trying. And she's tired, oh so very tired, because the war never stops. It keeps going on and on.
I'm drowning. I am my own anchor, weighing myself down, slowly killing my own soul with each slice.
Bitch.
Whore.
Slut.
The list goes on and on. And as the dawn hits the morning sky, I can't help but think. Who am I? What are these gashes of red marring my porcelain skin? Why am I doing this?
And then the water hits me and I go down, into the deep blue depths, once again.
In a last attempt to feel alive, she cuts her body, relishing the awakening pain that spears through her exhaustion. Pain is freedom. Pain is liberty. Pain is life. But, one day, pain won't be enough to survive. One day, eternal peace will be the only option.
I'm tired. I'm tired of coping. I'm tired of pain. I'm tired of heartbreak. I'm tired of hoping for someone good. I'm tired of remembering. I'm tired of smiling. I'm tired of laughing. I'm tired of lying. I'm tired of tears. I'm tied of pretending. I'm not ok. I'm done. And don't you dare come and visit my grave and sob and tell me you love me. Because that's all I would've needed to stay.