When I was little
and scared
in the dark of night.
I was lying
on my bed.
My fingers were wrapped tight
around a stuffed animal,
that I would crush in my arms,
and hold against my chest.
So I could bury my face in it,
and hide from the world,
when it was scary.
And on the night when everyone thought the world would end.
And all the nights there were tornado warnings.
Or when my neighbors house went aflame,
and I was terrified ours would do the same.
I would tell myself
that
"everything will be okay tonight. I don't know about tomorrow, but tonight everything will be okay. And I'll make it too the morning."
And it worked.
My fear could slip away
and I would easily make it till morning.
But thoughts like that, don't come with a warning
saying that having nice thoughts like that
would stop.
Because if I tell myself that
during the day.
It just doesn't work
the same as it used too.
And the blade, or the pills
they call.
And there's the fleeting thought,
of, one little cut won't hurt at all.
And for a moment, I think that my five weeks
being clean
don't matter.
Until I remember
that I can't be a disappointment anymore.
And that I just can't do it to myself.
Because I don't want to ruin myself
any longer.
But that doesn't stop the urges.
And when they're pestering me,
saying that I'll be okay for the night,
just doesn't help
like it used too.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
