I take a deep breath, and count from one to five
One. Two. Three. Four. Five,
and tell myself, “You don’t need the blade. You don’t.”
I take a deep breath and count from one to ten
I tell myself again, “You don’t need to see your blood right now.”
I do it again, “You don’t need that knife right now.”
But God, the desire to reach out for the knife is overwhelming and it just won't go away
I just wish it'd fly out the window and—wait, I have my window closed.
I frantically open it and by the time I reach my bed again,
the urge to slash my skin open is gone.
This is what I’ve been living with for the past few years.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five,
and tell myself, “You don’t need the blade. You don’t.”
I take a deep breath and count from one to ten
I tell myself again, “You don’t need to see your blood right now.”
I do it again, “You don’t need that knife right now.”
But God, the desire to reach out for the knife is overwhelming and it just won't go away
I just wish it'd fly out the window and—wait, I have my window closed.
I frantically open it and by the time I reach my bed again,
the urge to slash my skin open is gone.
This is what I’ve been living with for the past few years.
I was just texting you when all of sudden I grew tired and my heart felt heavy
and I just lost interest to do anything and I swear there was hole in my chest
You asked me what was wrong and when I told you, you said
“Oh, you’re just tired and it’s probably a bad mood.”
But is it? Is it bad mood when you can practically feel emptiness in your heart?
Is it bad mood when all you can feel is numbness?
Is it bad mood when it lasts for three whole months before it suddenly stops, then randomly reappears?
You ask me, “How can you feel a hole in your chest?”
Go ask that to every depressed person out there and I bet you they’re gonna say, “You wouldn’t understand.”
Because you don’t and you won’t and you can’t
Because you don’t have that hole in your chest.
and I just lost interest to do anything and I swear there was hole in my chest
You asked me what was wrong and when I told you, you said
“Oh, you’re just tired and it’s probably a bad mood.”
But is it? Is it bad mood when you can practically feel emptiness in your heart?
Is it bad mood when all you can feel is numbness?
Is it bad mood when it lasts for three whole months before it suddenly stops, then randomly reappears?
You ask me, “How can you feel a hole in your chest?”
Go ask that to every depressed person out there and I bet you they’re gonna say, “You wouldn’t understand.”
Because you don’t and you won’t and you can’t
Because you don’t have that hole in your chest.
I say to myself, “I’m gonna rest for a while.”
I lie in my bed and close my eyes and that’s when the thought of failing hits me.
Oh my God how can I just rest?
What if I fail my classes? What if I get left behind?
What if I disappoint people? What if I already have?
What if people hate me?
So I frantically open my textbooks and write things down and try to make people happier
and I start to pace things up
because I’m afraid I won’t have long time left
Because I’m scared I’ll die before I finish things.
Do not tell me my anxiety isn’t real
Do not tell me I’m worrying over unimportant little things too much
Do not tell me that I don’t have anything to be anxious about,
that I’m just being silly
Do not tell me to get a grip
My anxiety, is not nervousness before exams.
I lie in my bed and close my eyes and that’s when the thought of failing hits me.
Oh my God how can I just rest?
What if I fail my classes? What if I get left behind?
What if I disappoint people? What if I already have?
What if people hate me?
So I frantically open my textbooks and write things down and try to make people happier
and I start to pace things up
because I’m afraid I won’t have long time left
Because I’m scared I’ll die before I finish things.
Do not tell me my anxiety isn’t real
Do not tell me I’m worrying over unimportant little things too much
Do not tell me that I don’t have anything to be anxious about,
that I’m just being silly
Do not tell me to get a grip
My anxiety, is not nervousness before exams.
Do not, for a second, try to tell me that my depression is just my imagination
Do not tell me to get over it
Do not tell me that my life is great, I have no problems, I have nothing to be depressed about
Do not tell me there are others who have it worse than me but look!
They’re fine, they still go on with their lives!
How the fuck do you know that they’re fine?
How the fuck do you know they don’t spend nights wondering why the hell everything is so hard?
How the fuck do you know they don’t feel the numbness that I’m feeling?
How the fuck do you know they don’t have holes in their chests?
How the fuck do you know they don’t drag themselves out of beds every morning to get ready to face another day when all they can think about is dying?
Because that’s what I do every fucking morning.
So do not remind me that my life isn’t worse than some people’s.
I know that! Yet here I am struggling with my life and that makes me feel worse about myself!
Do not tell me to get over it
Do not tell me that my life is great, I have no problems, I have nothing to be depressed about
Do not tell me there are others who have it worse than me but look!
They’re fine, they still go on with their lives!
How the fuck do you know that they’re fine?
How the fuck do you know they don’t spend nights wondering why the hell everything is so hard?
How the fuck do you know they don’t feel the numbness that I’m feeling?
How the fuck do you know they don’t have holes in their chests?
How the fuck do you know they don’t drag themselves out of beds every morning to get ready to face another day when all they can think about is dying?
Because that’s what I do every fucking morning.
So do not remind me that my life isn’t worse than some people’s.
I know that! Yet here I am struggling with my life and that makes me feel worse about myself!
Do not tell me that my scars are ridiculous
Do not tell me I drag my blade across my skin because I ‘follow the trend’
or because I ‘read it on the internet and thought that it was cool’.
Do not tell me I scratch my skin just for attention
If I want attention, I’d write this poem on a huge billboard
Write my name under the words ‘you people are fuckers!’
Do not tell me my self-harm habit is horrible when in reality it’s the one that sobers me up.
Not you. Fuck you.
Do not tell me I drag my blade across my skin because I ‘follow the trend’
or because I ‘read it on the internet and thought that it was cool’.
Do not tell me I scratch my skin just for attention
If I want attention, I’d write this poem on a huge billboard
Write my name under the words ‘you people are fuckers!’
Do not tell me my self-harm habit is horrible when in reality it’s the one that sobers me up.
Not you. Fuck you.
So now you still want to tell me that mental illness isn’t real?
You still want to tell me it’s just a phase?
You still want to say that, even when my brain is chemically wrong, I’m not sick?
You still want to say that those people, who starve themselves to be beautiful enough to your standard, aren’t real?
Those people who vomit after they eat,
those people with personalities so confusing,
those people who can not stay still,
those people with OCD, ADHD, anorexia, bulimia, schizophrenia, bipolar, autism, anxiety and panic disorder, aren’t real?
You still want to tell me it’s just a phase?
You still want to say that, even when my brain is chemically wrong, I’m not sick?
You still want to say that those people, who starve themselves to be beautiful enough to your standard, aren’t real?
Those people who vomit after they eat,
those people with personalities so confusing,
those people who can not stay still,
those people with OCD, ADHD, anorexia, bulimia, schizophrenia, bipolar, autism, anxiety and panic disorder, aren’t real?
Read more. See more. Listen more.
Open your mind, wake the fuck up.
Surprise! We’re here! We’re real!
And we don’t need your scrunching up nose and your words that ‘it’s just a phase it’ll go away’ and ‘it’s just your feeling you’ll be fine’.
Newsflash, we won’t.
We don’t need your uneducated judgments or your ignorant opinions
We need your understanding, we need you to be there for us
And most importantly, we need your acknowledgment,
that we are real.
Open your mind, wake the fuck up.
Surprise! We’re here! We’re real!
And we don’t need your scrunching up nose and your words that ‘it’s just a phase it’ll go away’ and ‘it’s just your feeling you’ll be fine’.
Newsflash, we won’t.
We don’t need your uneducated judgments or your ignorant opinions
We need your understanding, we need you to be there for us
And most importantly, we need your acknowledgment,
that we are real.
~~
Wrote this one when I was feling pretty overwhelmed so yeah, and probably my first slam poem.
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