warning: this chapter may include some themes that may be triggering or depressing for some readers. read at your own choice.
she sat in the bathtub
crying dreaded tears
to everyone she had lied
she couldn't take anymore pain
angry at herself
angry at the world
couldn't anyone see
she was dying inside
she was slowly being murdered
by the voices in her head
the water from the shower
rained down on her
just liked the spiteful insults
she received on a daily basis
the tears running down her face
weren't distinguishable
from the rainfall from the shower
that washed away
the blood
from her skin
but it couldn't wash away
the scars she had left
or the bruises
that discoloured her skin
she heard her phone chirp
she picked it up
from the ground beside her
and began to sob
after reading a text message
flashing on her screen
i'm here right now. where are you?
she threw her phone
across the room
smacking the wall
then crashing to the ground
smashing against the cold tiles
as she wailed out
pulling on her hair
squeezing her fists
leaning against
the cold wet bathtub
never had she in her life
ever wanted to be dead
as much as she did now.
she had no power left
as she tried to drown herself
under the cold water
of the persistent shower
she was almost alseep
drowned in her own tears
lying in the bathtub
under the running shower
when someone swung the door open
and it was she
who saved her best friend's life
but it really tore at her heart
how she didn't realise
how bad she was suffering
right under her nose
all this time
she always said she was alright
she always had a smile
she always hid her body
saying she was "just cold"
but now she felt utterly stupid
because all along
she knew she was never alright
those smiles on her face
were always fake
and the reason she always wore
long sleeves
and covered clothing
was because
her body was covered in secrets
that no one was supposed to find out.
YOU ARE READING
breathe ⇒ poetry
Puisialexithymia (ah-lek-sah-THI-mee-ah) - inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner. " the best poems are written in the early morning when all you can see is darkness and your eyes are filled with tears " [aesthetic poems, stories through p...
