Sick To The Soft Of My Bones

I’m not sure where the illness ends

Or where I begin

And thats a harder pill to swallow

Than the three bottles of antidepressants I took this morning

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The Night The Sea Swallowed Me

I hurt so deeply 
And you were afraid of drowning 

I can’t blame you for this

I’ve been floating in it since I was 12

The hurt feels like home now

But fuck

You can’t run every time the water hits the shore 

All I needed was a lifeguard 

And you disappeared 

Mirror: Part Three

He finished making the coffee, and handed me a cup. He told me about his work and his schooling and his family and mine. How could I have missed out on so much life? He told me he was just glad to see me out of bed again, and I recalled a time where we would go out for breakfast and laugh and feel and everything felt right. But things were different then, of course I miss it too, of course if I had a say in how my mind worked, I would tell it to stop feeling sorry for itself but that doesn’t seem to work. He placed his mug beside me and used both of his hands to cup my face. I looked into his eyes and just prayed he saw something more than I did when I was looking into the mirror earlier.

“You are so beautiful.” He said as he pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back deeply, but not too deeply. The last time he commented on how passionately I kissed him, it was because I was going to kill myself later that evening. It would be rude to remind him of that today.

Nightmares

In my bed I hear her.

She calls my name so sweetly.

She performs shows with rubies and pearls.

But the rubies you see, have taken the colour from my bleeding veins.

The pearls, my milk teeth.

Innocence lost.

But the show is so captivating.

My blood looks better outside my body.

I beg to stay, but she sends me out of sleep.

I wake up to my disappointing reality.

I sat in the tub and drew a line down my wrist.

And the rubies fall down the pearl of the tub.

“Welcome home.” She says

It’s Getting Worse

I will write you poems,

From the blood the pours from my wrist.

The colour of your eyes in the sunlight,

Matches the noose hanging in my closet.

Your hand grips mine so passionately,

The same way I held the empty pill bottle.

Your sent is intoxicating,

I just wish I could be locked with it inside a plastic bag.

You gently splashed me in the tub,

And the waves made me want to go to the sea and swim as far as I could so I couldn’t make it back.

I thought loving you would make me better, but you have given death a romantic touch. And I love her more than I could ever love you.