My Lies

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H   e   l   p. 

I'm dying. 

I need someone to grab onto

before I fall again. 

I can feel it...

waiting. 

It's waiting. 

They're waiting.

(It's always there.)

My demons. 

Inside my head. 

I can't...think straight. 

My thoughts... 

dotdotdot. 

I'm insane. 

[ T h i s  w i l l  m a k e  n o  s e n s e . ]

Please,

listen to me. 

Someone. 

Anyone.

Stop telling me to message you. 

Tell me to talk to you. 

I don't know what to think. 

[Or to feel.]

I'm crying. 

Tear after tear after tear. 

[When will they turn red?]

Long paragraphs at midnight. 

Your comments on my poems. 

Telling me;

how they understand. 

how I'm strong. 

how it'll get better. 

I'm not fucking strong. 

I should be happy. 

I shouldshouldshouldshould be happy. 

Ungrateful girl...

...with no reason to be sad. 

[But I am.]

Buried yourself in the internet, did you?

Made online friends, did you?

Called them your best friends, did you? 

Cried yourself to sleep, did you?

[Yes, yes, yes, yes.]

Change.

Change.

That's what I need.

Someone...help me change.

I'm too weak to do it myself. 

[Worthless little shit.]

PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME. 

[The demons in my head

are drowning out the voice of reason.]

Some days are good. 

Some days are bad.

[I can't tell the difference anymore.]

How long will it be, Becky? 

Before you slash your wrists one last time? 

[Not that anyone notices

or even cares about

the slashes on my hips.] 

I don't deserve to live. 

[SorrySorrySorrySorrySorry.]

They tell me to stop saying sorry...

...but I can't.

I'm sorry for everything.

I'm sorry for hurting.

I'm sorry for being born.

I'm sorry for wasting oxygen.

I'm sorry. 

[Please forgive me. Anyone. Someone. Save me.]