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Time and Time and Time Again (a lyric poem)

I told you time and time again,

“depressed girls just don’t fit in.”

And every single day I live

I think of just ending it.

 

You told me time and time again,

“in my arms you fit right in.

Baby let me see you smile

I promise life is worth while.”

 

Then at night I am alone,

not in your arms; I am not home.

“Please come save me from myself;

I swear those pills are calling from my shelf.”

 

When at night you are alone

without me you don’t feel home.

You call me “please baby

I am here just talk to me.”

 

“The demons are screaming in my head

they keep asking why aren’t I dead.

Time and time and time again

I tell them I fit in.”

 

“That’s good love I’m proud of you.

What else did you do?

Come on hun talk to them.

Prove to them they cannot win.”

 

“Babe I told you time and time again

that they will forever win.

I told you I love you,

but myself I never do.”

 

“Love please don’t talk like this;

I promise we can fix this.

Babe I love you too.

Stay strong; I’ll help you.”

 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t.

I give in, no more chance.

I love you so much my dear,

the last words of my voice you’ll hear.”

 

“Baby please don’t go.

I need you; you are my home.

Baby please respond to me

or has you soul left me?”

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“It’s okay to cry”

I stare into my eyes as the tears fall down my cheek. My crystal blue eyes gleam back at me in the mirror. My demons take root in me. “God I am so beautiful when I am in pain” I feel comfort in my hurt. A level of acceptance in my tears that I cannot form when I smile. To my eyes, my smile is nothing more than a fake picture framed for all to see. Allowing everyone else to keep their level of comfort in the idea of my contentment. In the idea that I feel something other than self hate when I see my teeth shine through my lips, in the moments where my demons like to tease me with the idea of happiness. Then they remind me of how beautiful I am when I frown. When the corners of my lips remain down… like my head… like my body in my bed. With all of these voices in my head, no I swear I am not crazy, but maybe, just maybe, I am lying. I stare into my eyes as the tears fall down my cheek. It’s okay to cry they remind me, but God forbid I crack a smile. Crack a smile and they crack the whip on the resting being of my anxiety. Now sprinting, frantic. The panic attack begins.  I stare into my eyes as the tears fall down my cheek. I realize I am no longer there. I calm. My chest is empty and my ears ring in the sound of my ending. I exhale slowly hoping it’s the last time. I breathe back in as I cry and cry and cry. I watch the tears leaving their mark on my face. Reminding me that my death is trapped in a still living body. My body the house of a lost soul which died long ago. I stare into my eyes as the tears fall down my cheek. And I stare into the face of death. Me.

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Love isn’t all

My eyes lit up in the dark,

only turning the light on to leave my own marks.

As if a cut will remove all the hate in my body

suck the venom from my veins.

But my brain manufactures every pain,

sending tears down my face

and keeping me stuck in this place.

As my soul continues to rot to nothing:

nothing more than a dead body buried 6 feet under,

nothing more than ashes sprinkled in the air.

My death spreading more and more despair.

And when my he whispers to me,

calling upon my ghostly presence:

“I loved you and I cared

and baby I was always there.”

I will say “I’m sorry,

but your love couldn’t fix me.”

He always told me he loved me.

The word “love” seeping through my damaged heart,

reminding me of how broken I was each time I fell apart in his arms.