Something by me

Life is like a kite,
and the sunshine causing your smiles
keep me grounded
without flight.

I should’ve died,
a hundred times.

No one understands pain,
feeling as though a train
repeatedly travels through your brain
savaging your remains.
I am not sane,
which can be made apparent
by the realization of these knives
at my bedside.
I cry every night,
but no one hears
as the tears stream silently
and I stay inside.

I can’t remember the last time
a friend called out of concern.
The yearn for acceptance
hasn’t earned anything
besides the hurt that keeps
these knives at my bedside.
Pride has vanished,
along with those familiar faces,
once taken for granted
and now I lay here in panic
because the rush through my veins
causes each breath
to become frantic;
each more than the last.

I have left the terror of my past,
along with these knives
that remain at my bedside.



Teby ,