Worthless

Falling and Dying

Her world is falling apart. Each day she wants to cry when only a few months ago everything was fine. She used to have an escape, a way to be happy, some kind of hope that her life was getting better. Now she's lost it. She's stumbling in the dark, tripping over her own feet and bloodying her arms.

Her cheeks are permanently stained with tears, yet she manages to hide it all. Everyone doesn't see what's happening. They think she's okay, just a bit clumsy, while she falls helplessly into an unstable state. A part of her seems to be making her insane. Her emotions rampage while she hides during school. All she wants to do is feel a cool blade against her skin, a stinging on her side, arm, leg, shoulder, stomach, anywhere. The slight burning of her wrist from a ponytail holder. The burning of her nails raking against her skin. Yet she smiles and does as told by the one person that matters most.

No one seems to notice, and if they do then they certainly don't care, the lies she tells while she's breaking. They all ask, but the worry never reaches their eyes. She blames it on being tired or sick, but never tells them the truth.

She holds onto one tiny shred of hope, not enough to light her path or help ease her pain. Not enough to give her strength to continue living, to stop her own torture. Not enough to keep her suicidal thoughts away in the middle of the night. Not enough to make her stop wishing she'd die. But it's hope and that's the best she has. While her world crumbles and dies around her, she still tightly holds onto that thread.

However, it can't stop her dying. Each day is a battle she barely wins. Nightmares win over dreams. They torture her. They burn into her mind. All she can do is sit helplessly while life moves on, with or without her. She's never sure if she's dreaming or awake. Her own life becoming more like hell as people grow apart. She cries alone every night, never telling anyone in the morning. She never lets people in, never tells them her true feelings. She can't talk to anyone. Her parents make her feel worse, her friends aren't supportive, and the one special person in her life, she doesn't want to bother or they aren't always there.

Weekends are the worst. No one to talk to. She's left to her own devices. She may sleep, may cry, may let her tortured mind win some hidden battle. Her world crumbles more. She dies faster. Her heart aches, but there's nothing she can do.

She's falling.

She's dying.

Yet she still hopes for something better.