I miss writing
I miss faith before the baby
I miss my best friend
I miss holding hands with my mom and faith, walking down the street
Love used to radiate from us
Now it doesn't
I miss being able to smile
I MISS THERAPY
I miss the feeling of a clean slate
I miss having faith in God
In what I was taught
I shake now
When I get upset or depressed violent shaking that I can't control
I don't talk anymore
I keep my words locked up in my tummy leaving them there to stew and boil away
I haven't had my period in six months
I'm to stressed to produce and egg
I haven't relapsed
since my birthday
But looking at all of my friends back home makes me want to end all my
Pain
For a while I had a new suicide date you know. I've still got it, written on the inside of my head.
I'm not afraid to die,
It means I wouldn't hurt anymore
I wouldn't hat myself anymore
I miss smiling and not wanting to cry
I miss being able to talk to people without the fear of panic consuming me
I miss when my art was good
And I didn't rip everything up
I miss when I hadn't realized I was gay
And I was perfectly happy single talking with my friends.
I just don't know what to do.
