Over the last 2 or so years, so many accusations have been thrown at me, for my ways to cope, I have shouted it’s not an issue leave me be, but they kept on at me, I am glad to say in the last week or so, I have been able to prove them wrong, I just wish they would recognize my small steps, small but a huge leap in moving forward.
So little is known of me, you see the outside but you don’t see behind closed doors,
You never saw the blood running down my arms, the tears refusing, the blade the only comfort,
You never saw me in an eve, with a rum in hand, fighting to feel something, anything,
Wanting the numbness to stop,
You never saw my own hand hitting down on my own body, as anger and frustration runs through my veins,
You don’t see the anxiety attacks, as I struggle to catch my breath, internally screaming,
It’s so hard, but as time has moved, I have eased,
Just last week, Lost and alone, fear and confusion, the only thing’s I could feel,
I could have grabbed the blade, but I grabbed a pen and a notebook,
I could have drowned in a bottle, but instead I drowned in music,
Though the anxiety still sits strong, this alone is one I can bare to face
I held my own, refusing to allow myself to fall,
These items are not my friends, yet they are not demons,
They have just been there as a way to manage,
not cope, but just manage ,
I will never unfriend my demons, they bring me comfort,
As they now sit beside me, to bring me back up,
Where this path will take me, I do not know,
For now I sit content with small steps,
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