day by day

damaGe.

i tell my friends how much i miss you,
they all say "i wish i could take your pain away"
they say that time will heal.
and i don't doubt them.
i know it will,
i've been through break ups before and clearly i made it through the other side.
i know with time i will be okay
and i won't miss you anymore.
"i wish i could take your pain away"
what a strange thing to say,
i think if it was possible,
i would choose to take on everyone else's on top of mine.
because i know how much i don't want to be alive,
and the thought of the people i love the most in the world,
feeling that way too?
i hate it.
it makes me so unspeakably sad.
but if it was possible to do that,
i wouldn't let them.
i know how my pain feels,
why would i let someone i adore,
take that on?
everything i have lived through,
sure it doesn't compare to others,
but it was hell.
and i survived it.
and now i have to survive this too.
i have to carry my own pain.
i cant let anyone take it on for me.

i have to press my own wounds and make my own blood run.
i have to remind myself of every one of my open wounds.
pour a little salt in them,
don't be shy.

how sad is it to say,

i don't think i could do as much damage to myself,
as the people i loved most,
have already done to me.

everyone's moving on.
maybe their wounds are freshly healed.
maybe they're old scars by now.
but mine still bleed.
they bleed in the darkest hours of the night,
where no one else will see.
so that no one else has to sacrifice bandages.
i'll make some makeshift bandage.
while i may bleed through, it'll hold.
i'm so tired of wrapping up these old cuts and putting ointment on these old burns.
but i carry my pain well.
i always have and i always will.
that is the one thing i can guarantee,
you will never see me and think
"gee annika, you look like hell."
you will always think
"she looks good. she carries it well"
i will never be the girl who asks for spare bandages.
i will bleed out before i admit that my cuts still cry red.
i will suffer silently in writhing pain before i say that my skin still feels like it's on fire.

you will never, ever be able to tell that i still miss you.
that i promise.
you will see me and wonder if it really is possible to pass your pain onto someone else.
so that you don't have as much to carry.
you will never see that i carry it all with me still.
every thing that has ever hurt my heart is snug in my suitcase.
the biggest space being taken up by all that we were.
you will never see inside it again.