Rubbing my temple,
I try to fight off the ongoing slaught of tears that has plagued me
Since the beginning of last week.
I tell myself that it's two more hours;
All I have to do is get through the next two hours of work
And then I can cry as much as I want.
"It's ok to cry."
My dads words echo through my head,
He's said them to me more than once
And as of late
It feels like he's said them several times a day.
Washing my hands in the sink,
My eyes avoid the mirror once more.
I can't do it.
I can't look at my reflection because if I do I'm scared I might
punch a hole in the mirror out of hatred
for the person I know will be staring back at me.
How did I get here?
And why did I ever let this happen to me?
To us?
To you...
"It's not your fault."
Words coming from someone who could never begin to fathom
Just exactly WHY it IS my fault.
And then those who see my pain choose to turn their heads,
Ignorant of the never ending storm that is
Damaging me,
Tearing me apart from the inside out.
One friend tried to kill herself,
And JEALOUSY struck through me when she almost succeeded.
Benedryl will do the trick... good to know,
But I don't need drugs to kill myself.
Love seems to do that job perfectly fine, thanks.
