I Try To Drown My Demons, But They Know How To Swim

Help

Help that sits right across from me as I scream but without words, hoping my eyes will say all that my mouth can't. The lump forming in my throat and the tears in my eyes are all I wish I could say but can't. I screamed for help, but there was no sound. It was so loud inside but so silent out, and then I realized it was what I'd been taught to become. 

"You don't have a voice."

 The one who claims to be my voice says all decisions and choices are made by the voice that is supposed to want the best for me but is killing me at the same time. 

He never took my voice from me; you did. 

I realize I never said "no" or "stop" because those words never got me anywhere when I said them to you. 

Help is what I need cause I feel as if I'm going crazy. Help also stood right before me, but yet again, there was no noise. I asked for a hug; that was all I could do, but I didn't receive it. Instead, I'm told, "If you were my age, I would have fucked you a long time ago." And I laughed because, to me, this is what love is. Not the love of my mind, heart, or soul but my body. 

I never knew true love because all that claims to love me has only hurt me, but all that claims to love my body has only brought a smile to my face even as I beg for help. 

I never did receive that hug, but I claim to love you more than I love the voice, even though the voice doesn't know my smile or my laugh. Little did they know what you would say to me and how you would try to touch me like he once did. However, I allowed and entertained it because you claim to love me like the voice never did. 

The voice that has never heard that laugh or see that smile, so they claim that the problem is me. 

It's always me.

 I make all mistakes, but once proven otherwise, I receive no apology, but I seem to be the one who always gives them. They call me " Naive, " but I am, or am I just looking for love?

That's not what goes through my head when they finally do what I asked.

No, it's help. 

I scream with no voice that you took from me, so I will continue to look for it unthinkingly, not even knowing what it sounds like since I've never heard it before. It's different for each person I speak to because the real one will never be spoken, but is it even real? Am I even real? I believe you are, but don't believe I am. How is that possible? 

My life seems so foreign, and it's as if it's not mine to live. So, I've cut the strings of your little puppet show. Now, I'm left a lifeless doll seeking help. You say I like others more than I like you, but blood is not thicker than water, as they say. It just stains harder. 

Stains no amount of pills or drugs can be removed. Water has wet me before, but I can easily dry off. Stains of blood never come off but continue to grow. Now, I'm covered like Coraline once was. 

It's a movie I love so much. Cut from the womb by her mother only to die drenched in the same blood, a pig. 

However, she still ran to her mother when needed, like I never ran to you, because you have taken my voice and my will to live with it. 

What is a puppet without strings?

I walk but never run, living for a future but never in the present. If I don't know who I am now, how will I know who I am then? I plan for a future that isn't even guaranteed, with thoughts killing the body with no voice, even though those uncertainties are what keep me alive. They can only do so much to help me. 

So I relied on the beautiful plants Mother Nature provided because they were a natural remedy for my illness, unlike the artificial drugs hand-fed to me by the voices. They only sent me crazier. 

Now, that doctor is why I chose to stop taking my meds, so I could fully enjoy the remedies of nature given to me by strangers in dark cars and friends in big stall bathrooms. 

Not knowing that they are just as artificial as the medication made to calm the same thoughts they create. 

I miss it, though, being unable to walk or see beautiful colors I've never seen before at the expense of my lungs. But they clean themself, right doctor? So do my other parts, right? The white stuff that comes out is a sign that I'm healthy, even if it's not my own. 

Still, I would never dare to put white stuff anywhere else, just green or maybe blue and yellow. It doesn't matter what color, as long as it silences the thoughts my lost voice will never say. 

I'll be all right because I flushed all that away the night you almost died. 

The night I almost lost my life or even created one if the timing was right. 

That night, I didn't just lose my phone but Mother Nature's sweet remedies. 

But who is to say she won't find her way back to me when it's all I dream of? I promised her I would stop, and in return, she would lay a piece of her hair in my casket as she did to her mother. 

A love I will never know because all that will lay with you are suicide notes I've written since that sweet voice was taken from me. 

However, for now, enjoy my depressed face that only smiles and laughs with others, not yourself, and moods that swing more than the belt you would beat me with, and words so silent as I ask for help.

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Hello everyone!

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Kisses to my bitches💋😘💕

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