what tomorrow brings.

xii. how are you?

xii. HOW ARE YOU?

who i show is not who i want to be.
i tug a smile on my face while tears
well up in my eyes;
tell me i'm good enough, loved,
i laugh,
silly, i don't need to hear this.
i need to hear why i shouldn't be alive,
motivate me to die,
pull myself apart until i'm finally good enough.

i write this out, maybe i love it,
love it only to erase it,
erase it so you never see it.
do you hear what I'm trying to say?
the hidden messages in between blank lines?
i'm sick and tired of connecting these dots for you,
the constellation that says i'm never going to trust
what hides in the dark between bones in my chest,
the hills that carve out the body you call perfect.

i lie to myself,
hope you don't hear myself,
the thoughts inside my head,
the ones that drive me insane,
drag me into this void
that digs it's nails so deep into
my skin it only feels satisfying
to finally feel something.

i'm death walking with a heart beat
hoping one day the only thing eating
me alive isn't how i could die,
but how i can live peacefully
in a body scarred
inside and out,
folding my knees under me
only to shout
that i'll never be enough.

silence isn't an option
but i've tried screaming,
air horns,
sirens,
flashing red signs,
yet i'm still not heard.

it hurts to breathe.
i've dialed your number for the last time.
i get it.
the voicemail has been erased
and i'll continue to swallow these truths
so you can hear only what you want.

i'm fine, thanks for asking.
how are you?

( who i show is not who i want to be.
i tug a smile on my face while
tears well up in my eyes.

did you only just notice?)