i live in my head so much i should pay rent
charging for the racing thoughts and the asylum my depression takes
the cold tiles of the floor have made friends with my skin too many times to be safe, the tears and ballads and urges to scream
i once heard someone describe it as secondhand suicide : the desire to die but refusing to do it whether it be the people or the memories you just can't seem to do it , you just exist with no genuine will to live
i've begun to eat less and less until one day hopefully i don't have to anymore
i stare at my skin looking at the scars from my past so they don't appear again
i live in my head so much i've become isolated within the walls of my skull
forcing myself to talk to people so i don't get as bad as i did in the fall
hiding behind a mask of sunshine and smiles everyone probably knows is fake but doesn't have the guts to call me out on it
YOU ARE READING
dancing with ghosts
Poetryi've dealt with many ghosts. some personal, some actual, but i consider these mine nonetheless. in hopes of opening more conversations for those who hide behind golden masks of sunshine and bubbly energy, i have poeticized some of my turmoil with th...
