:me:

im surviving, but

wouldnt quite call it living.

there been some rather

stormy forecasts lately

in eyes im afraid to claim

mine.

finding myself

sobbing, clinging to

tattered sweaters 

that i, pathetically wear,

draped in a mess of tears and

saliva

i have heard myself moan

the saddest words, in the

saddest voice

feeling your mind

slowly turn against you is...

probably the saddest thing.

feeling grey turn to black,

and bad days turn to weeks,

and i find my conscience changing;

reconnecting with old friends.

feeling lonely,

doesn't always mean you're alone.

i, for one, have never felt so lonely

in my entire life--surrounded, engulfed

in a crowd of people who love me more

than i love myself.

i used to believe that

i loved myself, really,

i did.

but its hard to believe

when lately, 

im waking up 

to my head on the piano,

in a pool of salty water

and puffy, red eyes

like im high or something.

if sadness is a drug

then im the addict;

chronically high,

terminally sad.

but no, it's not a drug--

cutting is the drug,

sadness is the catalyst.

you know, they always said

drugs are bad.

well how can it be bad

if its the only thing

stopping me, distracting me

from ending it all

no, i wont say

its the only thing.

my imagination is another--

can't bear to picture the look

on my sisters face, if she

were to come home

to an impulsive lifeless gal

with a bottle of 

pills,

in her hand.

now what would that do?

i will admit that 

some days, id like 

to watch myself bleed out,

to see crimson mix with clear

and crawl down the sink;

it's like a big HA HA to

the little black cloud above

my head. like saying,

"nana booboo, i won't cry,

i'll just bleed."

but bleeding 

is crying.

and i wonder,

what it's like

to not feel disgusting,

like a waste of space.

i wonder what it feels like,

to feel like you deserve

to breath 

what it feels like,

to not cry yourself to sleep

every 

f*****g

night.

i wonder what it feels like,

to have a reason to get up 

in the morning. to not 

fake my way through

hallways, and awkward

hello's

i wonder what its f*****g like,

to have sex, 

and not feel hideous

to look in the mirror,

and smile at myself,

to not flinch at the touch

of hands i love so much.

to hear the words 

i love you

and not be in shock.

yeah

i wonder what it feels like to live.

Reviews

[icelandicblue]

So many of us suffer and search for a way to accept and love ourselves so that we can return to the land of the living. This poem is filled with angst searching for a door to the outside of self:

feeling your mind
slowly turn against you is...
probably the saddest thing.
feeling grey turn to black,
and bad days turn to weeks,

[Moebia]

Thank you so much for the revew.