There’s always the voice whispering
“You’re nothing.” “They don’t need you.” “Why are you still trying.”
I try to answer, but I can’t come up with anything.
Besides that I feel like I’m obligated to live,
Not for myself, but because of the people who tell me they love me.
That I’m their best friend, that I mean something to them.
I want to push them away, to kick them out of my life and love,
To leave, walk away with my self-broken heart,
Take a single lovely swan dive, or dangle delicately from the heavy rope.
Swallow a few hundred little pills, before they turn to bugs crawling on my skin.
Before the snakes try to choke me, before the spiders get too entangled in my hair,
Before this little white room comes alive and smothers me.
They’ll always find me in this ever lasting nightmare.