Sometimes

sometimes I hold my hands to my neck just long enough to become lightheaded

sometimes I hold a blade to my skin just to feel it push in with cold metal, but never enough to make a cut

Sometimes i push my fingertips deep into my flesh like I’m hoping to scrape off a sticky mask that just won’t come off, but luckily I bite my fingernails

sometimes I feel hungry but refuse to give myself food simply because I can’t stand the thought of feeding something I don’t love

Sometimes I lose my temper because I get so tired of smiling but when I’m asked what is wrong I still continue to lie

Sometimes I think about the best way to end my life as I sit at the dock looking out on the water where I dreamed of escaping and running to the forest across the way or the mountain I claimed as mine

I sit and watch the water blasting my music at full volume even though I know the consequences later may lead regret to me

I walk and think of this place I know so well and every friendship that feels like it ended for me while I sat and did nothing

Through all this I realize that I am weak and so afraid because I want to die, hell I’d love to stop breathing but I tell myself they’d miss me and can’t bring the blade to pierce my soft skin.

I want to live but I find no joy no happiness and tell myself nobody cares and they won’t miss me. 

I want my relationship back with my friend from the woods but when I cry and scream I still find myself feeling noting and find no change within me

When I want to run to new places a safe heaven I tell myself I’m too young it’s not fair I can’t disappoint them, but if that’s true doesn’t it mean they care? 

I tell people I have no friends when I have many I’m just so sick of feeling lonely even when I could have them around me.

I’m sick of trying still feeling no connection or care making people to be a God when they aren’t meant to be

Hell to me for losing hope when all I should be is happy

I want to eat and sometimes I do I don’t want to eat so sometimes I won’t but I still feed and take care of me because I hate myself, I hate myself enough to keep living.

Sometimes I still hope there is value in my life, hope, a plan but even I know I’m dying 

as years went by I imagined my future getting smaller and smaller 

I can’t see myself growing old anymore or even having a family

The years keep fading but I’m still sitting here

Because sometimes I fall in love with a feeling 

Sometimes I think I’m in love with a tragedy so I can taste something

Sometimes I think of living and sometimes I think of dying 

Sometimes I do

just sometimes