Too many questions
By Sophie Ann

what is it?
is it raw emptiness that fills my body throughout each day, every wake feeling more exhausting than the last?
the airy emotion that is plastered with a smile, the “normal me” I force myself to play at school?
is it the constant tapping inside my head, the voices that tell me to take that step, take that pill, take that cut…
take that risk?

the moods control me

the persistent loneliness that shadows me, creating a dark barrier around me that separates me from the happiness I desire most?
is it the fact the moods control me, like a prisoner, always waiting in fear of being hurt or forgotten…
inside this empty metal prison cell?
the many times people tell me how valued I am, yet the majority don’t spend 10 seconds to see if I’m okay, even when the question is rhetorical, the tired look in my eyes telling everything?
is it the pure confusion of the lack of feeling that surprises me with bursts of cheer when I am around those few people that makes me realise how gloomy my days have become?
the plans that have not been set on weekends because I am always that one person people forget or push underneath others, because they’re simply used to being a low priority?

too many questions

or is it the subtle way in which my body shuts down its vital organs in the pain of the fluid burning my throat, stomach and flesh?
the dissolving of the problems that I now will never deal with?
this outcome I wish would proceed…
but is it the knowing of hurting others, and making them worse that keeps me holding back? gripping on by the single strand of string around my neck?
the knowing that I will leave you and you behind, without ever knowing what I really felt like in my head? too many questions…

constantly worrying

maybe it’s all of them
all of them at once
and that’s what makes everything
overwhelmingly depressing
constantly worrying
always suicidal

Reproduced with permission, originally posted here


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