broken kitchen light

you speak in cursive letters

your words curl around my throat

they tell me i’ll be fine but

i don’t know.

i stare at the glare of those

bright, brand new kitchen lights, like

i’m fine, but i’m so tempted to say, “i

wanna die sometimes okay?”

why must i hide

all the things i hold inside

while my pride

takes a dive as i try to pry

those messed up memories from my mind?

my tongue twists, resists and i

scream, “help me!” but

no one else is near enough

to hear my desperate plea my

cries of anguish

on my knees my

ragged breathing

tears streaming

i’ll see you tomorrow

but i’m never speaking

again.

you spoke in cursive letters

your words curled around my throat

they tell me i’ll be fine but

i don’t know.

sometimes i

want to break my own neck or

tear my soul into a million pieces

so i close my eyes and try to find

safety from

my own mind.

but when i can’t drown out the demons i

tiptoe slowly down the hall

hands holding onto the only hope i have

hoping that maybe you can talk

and there i stand

needing to knock

not knowing how you will respond

i know that it’s almost one o’clock.

but my chest is burning

i am yearning

for some empathy

please?

i can’t handle

the voices inside me

all of these people

but no one to guide me.

they tell me i’ll be fine but

i don’t know.

i don’t know.