trigger warning: self-harm. if you need to talk to anyone about whatever you’re going through, find a crisis line in your area here.

so i’m talking to my therapist. in the kind of way, where i’m just barely holding back the tears because i can feel them. rising like a tsunami in my chest. and i will try to swallow back the ocean. i will try. but i probably won’t be very good at it. and so i’m talking to my therapist. and she asks me why i do this. and so i swallow back the pain, bubbling like lava inside my brain. and so i’m talking to my therapist, and she tells me i need to stop tearing myself to pieces. and so i’m crying on the couch, because i’m fucking tired, and i just wish i could make everything stop for a second. and so i hold the knife to my skin, and i wish i could cut myself. or punch myself. or hate myself enough to snuff every feeling in my chest out, out, out. but honestly, i’m too exhausted to do anything right now. and so i swallow back the pain. and so i’m talking to my therapist, and it’s just hard to tell her. about this. this mess in my head. this empty part of me, that refuses to believe anything she’s ever said. and i’m so fucking exhausted, is all. and i know this is weird for me, but right now, i don’t want to be heard. or seen. or felt. or known. because the thoughts whip through me, like the kind of trains that just want to get away from home. and i’ll fold this poem,  for a while. live inside it. and pretend it’s some kind of hideaway that i can stay behind in, all on my own. and i’ll lie awake all night. and the rain will pound. and i’m supposed to be stronger than this. because i’m supposed to be better than this. because i’m supposed to be more than this… and the tears will dribble down my cheeks. and i will stand at the edge. and i will not have the heart anymore. to hate myself enough to keep doing this.

august has been really hard for me, in a lot of ways. i thought i was getting better, and for a while, my mental health really was improving. summer is always tough for me; i always jokingly refer to it as “mental breakdown season.” and i thought, for a while, that i was actually making progress. although i’m starting to pick myself back up again, the last couple weeks have been really rough for me. so although i’m starting to do better now, it feels like it’s been forever since my mind hasn’t been heavy this way. i wrote this poem a couple weeks ago, and then revised it to post up on the blog.

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