This silence makes more noise than
All "silences" are supposed to.

There's something more behind this tense,
Cloudy air I'm breathing in.
It sticks to my skin, makes me
Itch everywhere.
(everywhere.)

I'm trapped within my own body,
Nothing to do to stop my heart
From racing; beating, screaming
So loud that I swear everyone can hear it.
I think they're watching me start to



Fall apart, again.
(You're so weak...)

[I watch myself from the corner of my room. I slump down, knees curled close to my chest.
No control.
No stopping.
No savior.
Nobody knows.
Thoughts come in short bursts.
How long does it take to regain lost blood?
Will the weakness ever go away?
Is this my last time, will I give in again?
Am I going to stop this time?



Can I stop this time?
Too many unanswerable questions.]

My fingers twitch, I shudder,
I breathe slower.
I'm relieved, nothing can hurt me.
And even though my fingers are so,
So cold, everything feels warm.
Warmth is in my veins again, the
Blood circulating faster and

Faster


And



Faster




And...
I think I'm better now.

I'll open my lips and speak words
I wouldn't have dared to, because
Being fake is, by far,
The easiest way to prove that
Nothing is wrong with me.

I'll smile just so you don't know.




Am I even trying anymore?