Are like a lion
eating a zebra.
I am the zebra.
I try to run from you,
fleeting with my stripes,
trying to tell the others that
the lion is coming.
You catch up to me,
taking a bite out of my arm.
Blood is pouring,
then another bite.
Then another.
You take so many bites
that I bleed out.
I'm dying
because the lion
defeated the zebra.
YOU ARE READING
Dear My Mental Illnesses
No FicciónPoetry about my struggles with depression, anxiety, self harm, and suicidal ideation. Trigger warning