What do you see in my eyes?
A nameless being? A freak?
Or another face in the sea of people
What do I see when I look in the mirror?
sadness–pain–agony–ugliness,
an unrecognizable person
But I swindle my friends into thinking I’m okay
I create the illusion that my life is perfect
I close my eyes and see the apparition of my youth
How perfect things were, and how awful things are now
But in reality
the world I live in
Doesn’t know I am suffering

I see the scars on?My wrists
My legs
My arms
And I feel them?On my heart
?I think back to a time when I was truly alone
Strolling through the dark night
I thought to myself that I couldn’t bear it any longer
I was ready to go
It was dark and stormy
The cold rain falling down on me
It was almost like the sky was crying along with me

That was a long time ago,
but I still can feel the sharpness of the blades upon my heart
Occasionally at night I sit up and gaze out my window
I weep for the pain I still sometimes feel
I ponder if my life will be more than this

But then
I wander into a library
I find Walt Whitman
He understands me, I understand him
His words make me feel better,
They’re an anti-depressant
Poetry is what motivates me and speaks to me
It has given me a reason to continue
Even though I am being torn apart on the inside
I will continue to smile
And feel
And love
And I will survive
So I can learn to live happily.