my thoughts and poems

i'm tired

i hide behind a facade. a plaster mold of a smile painted onto my face caked in years of pretend enjoyment.

i'm tired of my little show. opening the curtains of the stage to reveal my faux performance of giggles and contentness to the audience--only to close the curtains and once again shield you away from my true self; to chip off the mask and fall to the floor.

i'm tired of calling out for somebody—anybody—to listen to me and whisper in my ear that everything will be okay.

i'm so fucking tired. i just wanna go home.

it is only when i drive the knife deep into my wrist, twisting it in circles and etching tally marks into my skin, screaming in agony when you finally start to ask if i'm okay—but yet simultaneously ignoring every plea for help and shoving me away like a little bug who's been buzzing around your ear for too long.

you don't care.

in the first attempt on my life, you all brushed it off. you called me an attention whore but tuned out my screams and sobs of loneliness, begging you to just listen.

you may say i'm faking it now, but i can guarantee you that when i make the devastating blow across my throat, bleeding out onto the floor with each deep, punctured line carved into my arms and hips and stomach on display—hundreds of marks running a marathon down my body, too many to count, you're going to say you wished you saw the signs before it was too late,  that you wished i would have talked to you. oh, but i did talk to you. i begged and pleaded with you but my cries just fell on deaf ears.

i'm so fucking tired.