Everyday is a very noisy day.
I love you.
You gave me my favorite toy when I was a kid,
That teddy bear,
I used to hold it at night
When I go to sleep
To keep the bad monsters away
The monsters you told me to be wary of?
The monsters in my closet,
Under my bed,
Under the stairs,
Hidden in the dark.
Why did you never tell me of the monsters in my head?
You never taught me how to protect myself from them.
Now they keep on haunting me,
They never leave me mom.
That belt hurt.
Those words that come out of your mouth hurt.
They all hurt.
Why are you hurting me?
I thought you loved me?
Didn’t you know that the monsters don’t like hurt?
They don’t like me getting hurt?
Did you know that?
Of course not.
You never listen.
But it is strangely satisfying.
To see my masterpiece on my skin
To see the glorious color of red dripping down my wrists.
It is strangely a wanting now,
To see red dripping down my neck…
I’m bleeding inside right now.
Because the monsters are fighting in me.
They are creating a war in my head that I don’t know how to stop them.
I don’t have the power to stop them.
I distract myself.
With the red
And with the salt running down my face.
Remember when I told you I would listen to the radio in my head?
You would always tell me to go ahead and listen.
But you didn’t know it was them.
The monsters I mean.
I listen to them all the time now because of you
They tell me the truths,
In a repeated echo of your voice.
Waste of space,
And worst of all
You know what they tell me?
Want to know what they tell me to do mom?
I know now.
I have depression.
Yet you still can’t seem to grasp that mom.
You tell me that I’m not making an effort,
That I’m not doing anything to help myself,
That I’m not even trying.
But don’t you get it mom?
Having depression means that you are trying
And fucking trying
All the time
Yet it doesn’t seem enough.
I feel that I am the lack of enough!
I have these monsters,
That tell me to quit every single day,
But I am trying
I AM TRYING
So why can’t you see that I am trying?
Why do you keep saying I’m not?
Why can’t you see I am fighting a losing battle
And actually winning
Since I am still fucking here?
Why can’t you understand?
Want to know a secret?
I never loved you.
What I do love,
Are the scars on my skin.
Because they are the reminders that I am a survivor.
You are a reminder
That I am never enough.