i didn't know what was it like to paint scars on your skin
till
i was the one slipping down my bathroom wall,
with red painted floors and metal kissed wrists.
i didn't know what was it like to cry yourself at night
till
i was the one stuffing my blanket into my mouth,
so my voice won't call out.
i didn't know what was it like to be renamed as disappointment
till
i was the one drowned in the ocean of self hatred.
i didn't know what was it like to beg for death
till
i was the one scraping my veins to finally find the right one.
i didn't know what was it like to lie
till
i was the one replying to everything "i am tired".
i didn't know why the girl who sat at the last bench wouldn't talk to anyone;
would flinch at every touch;
would scream shut up,
till
i was the one with voices in my head telling me to kill myself.
and god,
i would ask her what to do,
but after what she did last night
i know her answer would be,
"do as they say."
