You don’t look at my scars
crisscrossing their way across my arms
as a highway to the hospital bed
where you will sit across me asking
‘Why are you this sad?’
And I would clutch all my secrets,
saying ‘you wouldn’t understand’.
But you don’t lose your patience
like I thought you would.
You hold my hands instead
calling each of them battle wounds
Scars- that have healed to show the world
I have fought and won each time
And that you want me to win.
Your hands taught me
I don’t need blades in them.
Your hands in mine
would suffice, to get me through the day.
The medicine in our cabinet
Will always be filled with my antidepressants
Along with our make up
I tell you I can use the whole bottle
at once –
Overdosing – as one way to hear a guaranteed I love you
from people who I once thought loved me.
You sit with me patiently
and ask me to count the pills
And then the reasons I am sad.
I laugh at you saying you will need the pill factory for that
You smile at my laugh and say this is the start-
And the pills and the reasons don’t matter anymore.
Some days one laugh and one smile is enough.
With you, the songs are not secret suicide notes
I have been meaning to tell you all along
But just music I have that reminds me of something
we have in common
Something completely beautiful and ours
without the taint of my darkness.
You love that I write-
My writings a form of therapy
that wasn’t all dependent on you.
You wanted me okay,
But you wanted me to heal as well.
I eat food
Like it’s poison
And the contradiction hurts my head.
I tell you I’ll grow fat –
tasting the word on my tongue
like a bloody mouth in a fist brawl.
You say then there would be more of you to love.
And I want to scream
HOW CAN YOU LOVE ME?
How can you love me?
You say, you just do.
You just do. I love you too.
But I choke on those words.
You say, ‘you don’t have to say it back, I know you do.’
I wake up as a girl who has nothing left to live for,
But as soon as I feel your curves pressed against mine,
Your body a constant reminder
that there is beauty in being alive-
even if I find it in someone else’s arms –
I find a reason, and it is more than the nothing I have.
When you leave for work
You trust me to be there, breathing, waiting for you.
And somehow that simple trust is enough
because all I have seen is the look of people wondering
whether they’d be calling the hospital
or the funeral home when they get back.
So, I write and wait for you to come back home
I try on your clothes because they remind me of home,
Of you. Of how home is that one place
where I can be as I am- a broken girl with a sad story
who still has a place to be at
even when all she sees in her story is an ending.
You only see me in your clothes
You don’t know all my thoughts but you know they eat me up
But you only tell me
I look better in your clothes
Like it matters , but it does.
I ask you about your day
And you asked me about mine
Even though my answer remains the same-
the highlight being I didn’t kill myself
You say you’re glad each time.
Each and every time.
And you have no idea
how those two words are better
than any prayers
I have heard for myself.
I see you
and it reminds me of my safe place
Away from the world
where everyone was breathing
And I couldn’t do the same. .
Don’t hold your fucking breath.
Breathe. Breathe. Slowly,
Don’t choke for God’s sake.
Is she okay?
Your hand in mine.
Take me away please.
Yes, like that. You are doing good.
My heart was a broken mess
And you stuck all the pieces together.
When you hugged me
And I could hear all your broken pieces beating together as one.
We were the same.
We had our demons- only, I think I was yours.
But you still stayed
And I think that was what
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