relapse.

Vulnerable.
These are the days when shutting down
is welcome,
when music isn't a soothing hand.
She scoffs at compliments
of her innocence.
Innocence.
A common theme,
a reoccurring nightmare.
Thick bold letters stir dark emotions.
She is so happy that it
all breaks apart.

These are days when
Earth is too much a burden
(leaving is a temporary pain).

She doesn't belong.

It hurts when others view her as
happy, bubbly
when all she feels is
bitter bitter hatred selfish heartache
pain pain pain
blurring rushing stabs
and she wants it to end anyway she can
she doesn't care anymore
she's tired and restless and
everyone calls her cute
dense airy stupid
(ugly terrible malicious deviant)
stop stop stop
whispering too loud.
She wants to leave.

Tears are weak
she is weak
her soul mind body
weak weak weak
(end it end it)
cries herself to sleep
wakes up gasping for air
dehydrated
cries until she hates herself
more
for being
so
damn
weak.

Incapable of loving
she hates
pities
boiling blood
she seeks any escape
carnal lust
she needs love love love.
She won't accept it,
torment
self-injury
hate hate hate.
Puke until she feels
as weak as her mind
pills to make her light-headed
until she won't care
she needs a drink
burn burn burn.

She feels powerful.
Beautiful.
Suddenly in control of herself.
She can control
how much she bleeds
and how much she drinks
and how much she takes
and she feels so goddamned
nice.

Alone,
alone,
that's what she feels
but that's okay because
everyone will just leave her
because the power never lasts.
And her blood is tingling beneath her frail skin
so easily broken
like a balloon to a pin
and she just can't
stop stop stop
and she's lost it again.
Crashing harder than before
and she's spiraling
as the blood is running so fast
she's cut too deep
and she's scared
and so
alone alone alone.