blind and illiterate

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trigger warning for self harm

but if you could see my heart
the way it drowns itself night after night
the things that you can't see because they are so submerged
if you could see them too
you'd be crying too

if you could see what thoughts are in my head
the way i don't want to live but don't want to be dead
the way that feels slicing across your skin
the flesh splitting apart
the burn
the sting
the sharp, peck!

if you were fluent in reading the language of my heart
maybe you wouldn't laugh and say me too when i said i wanted to kill myself
maybe you would look me right in the eyes and say,
i know you're suffering, let me help you.

if you could see the accessories adorned onto my heart
the images tattooed there,
that one sunset,
that one room on that one night...

if you could feel the heart i have
if you could understand how it feels to be burning up yet so cold
dying yet so alive
here, but so far away

if you spoke fluently
in the language of my belongings
if you spoke fluently
in the language of my body
if you spoke fluently
in the language of my soul
in the language of my heart
maybe—

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