Nevermore

These past 16 months of cutting, restricting, suicidal thoughts and general self hatred have come to an end. Those months feel like a movie, the days flowing into one another, a black on black photograph finally developing into a dreamy abstract picture. Its over. Its done. I think I’m okay now.

No. I know I’m fucking okay.
I made it out alive.
I made it with countless faded scars and healing but aged deep red ones.
I made it out with a tally of 10 suicide attempts.

I finally got the guts to ask my 10-month-secret-crush to be my girlfriend.

I’m still going to be […]

The walls of my bedroom
hold too many secrets,
and too many stories
that I can never tell.

The lights on my headboard
have overseen more tears,
and have twinkled bright
when my life threatened to blow out.

The journal in my drawer
has heard my desperate cries,
and seen me at my worst,
yet can not help me more.

The blades secreted in a precious box
have kissed my skin far too many times
and traced mazes into my
too pale skin.

The new year
is something that threatens
to escape me, and I have to wonder…
is this the year?