To the World...(A Collection of Poems)

Looking to The Inside

There's an insecurity,
a lack of love of myself.
If I were another,
I'd be my worst enemy,
the bully that
would haunt my dreams.

I would run, child-like, and cling and cry
and I'd be told, with love,
they were just lies.
Where, and to whom,
can you go when the one who
hurts you the most
smiles wickedly in the mirror
and follows you where you also go?

I whisper swords in the dark,
the tips going straight into my heart.
"You're too fat."
"You're too ugly."
"No one will ever understand
your kind of insanity!"
I'm convinced no one will love me
and that I'll be stuck
wandering in the graveyard
of my dreams.

Depression slows the world down,
fogging the lens
and
sticking my feet to the ground.
It's hard to move
whilst my cries for help
won't make a sound
and
others can only stare, dumbfounded,
at the struggle that's nowhere -
but all around.
A sickness that evades the naked eye
just until you become
another tragedy, story, statistic.

Anxiety creeps and crawls
across my snowed skin,
its black, thin tendrils walking
until they can sink in
to my now distorted mind.
Tears fall from my eyes
and I shake.
Maybe I'm the danger that
others should cast away,
tell their kids to avoid for their safety.
Maybe I'm the monster
under the bed
with these wild thoughts creeping in.
No one will remember me.
No one will dare stay.
I'm the reason everyone walks away.

I beg the people I love most
not to forget me.
Puzzled, they ask me
why would they.
Who am I to tell them
to help me clean up the shattered glass
that broke before they stitched
their way into my
most vulnerable places?

I sit amongst the mess and
numbly tell them to forget it
and allow myself
to become another sad story
whilst life goes on without me.