eyes

Seeing, yet not seeing the right things. Always seeing things in the wrong light, twisting perceptions, twisting words, never being able to say the right ones because there isn't the right information to go off of. Burning, itching, stabbing pains, making the whole skull erupt in incurable agony that never goes away no matter how you try, no matter how much you do, just aching and hurting that destroys the brain and twists the perceptions even more until every word is meant to hurt and every pull away or second ignored is a declaration of "i don't love you". Wobbling around like a drunk, like a stoner, because the brain isn't sending the right signals to the body, isn't letting it move properly, and you can't see, you can't breathe, all you can do is sit there in pain and wait for it to go away, but you can't, there's no time, you have to go to school and act and direct and cut and sew and organize and write and deliver and message and talk and eat and everything is too much, there is too much of everything and when you take a small break there's just more waiting for you when you stick your head back under the water. Life is just a pool of water, no air, no room to breathe, when you have had too much you pull away and scream and cry and sleep and bury your face into someone's chest but they can't help because their head is still under water and their mind is elsewhere and even though you know your eyes are telling you wrong you can't make them see the right things, there are only words, and actions, and none of them mean what you think they mean, and when you say what you think they mean you are wrong, you are bad, but then nothing you say is wrong or bad as long as you say it and NONE OF IT MAKES ANY SENSE. So you pull away, you lift your head out of the water, and you feel like you can breathe, like you can see, but all the while the water grows darker, murkier, more full of pollutants and anxieties and depressive episodes and drama and work and study and so many things to do that no matter how big a breath of air you take the air all leaves your lungs the second your face touches the surface and you are blind and breathless again, and each time you go under you stay for a shorter amount of time until you're letting the things you have to do slide away from you, and things get harder to see, and more often you say the wrong thing, the bad thing, the worst thing, but "nothing you say is wrong as long as it's you saying it", but that's wrong because you know, you have seen it, you have done it, you have said something in jest and it has HURT someone, and you watch every word you say until you choke on the water and can't speak anymore. You know that you are loved, you are beautiful, that you have things you are supposed to do that will make you feel better, but the knowledge can only be held when you are out of the water, and you can't just wade, just be both in the water and out of the water at the same time, you have tried, you have ached for a balance, but there is only drowning or detachment and both are bad. You ache for someone to keep you afloat, but when you find someone you cling to them, and when you drown you KNOW that you are pulling them down with you even though they tell you everything is fine, and you don't know whether they're lying or whether your eyes are lying, and you don't want to ask about the former because that's more wrong or bad than anything you could accidentally offend with, just like asking for confirmation for things they have told you fourty times because you keep begging to hear it, and they seem so calm about having their head in the water more than you can stand and you can't see how they do it because it seems like such an alien concept to you because your eyes don't allow you to see anything other than drowning and detachment. You cling to them, and you hear the whispers that tell you that this is not healthy, you would be better if you stopped clinging to them, but it feels like if you let go you will sink and you will never be able to come back up because they are what's keeping you afloat, but saying that is bad and wrong as well because it shows just how desperate you are to stay above the water. You should be able to see a way out of this but you can't, and every time you can't you become convinced that there is nothing there to see, but everyone else can see it, and your eyes are damaged, YOU ARE DAMAGED, because you can't see what others see. You are not damaged enough to need help, that's what you tell yourself, that's what everyone else seems to think, but nothing you are doing is working, nothing you are doing is helping, you are going deeper every day into the water and it is harder to get out and it is harder to get back in once you do get out. Your eyes search, you eyes strain for an answer, but that only brings on more pain, more agony, and you clutch and push and stab and hope that someday your eyes will burst under the pressure you place on them and all the pressure in your skull will go away, or you hope that someone will notice you trying to burst your own eyeballs, pop them like water balloons, and they will grab your hands and stop you and ask you if you are okay, so that you can tell them that you're not and they can help you, but nobody ever notices, and your eyes BURN. They grate against your eyelids and dry and you can't see through them anyway so why does anything matter? You can't think that way. You have to keep looking, peering out into the dark water that only hurts your vision even more with each desperate glance, and hope that someday you will find a way to drown that will not drag everyone else down into the water with you. That's worse though, you can't talk about that, that's the worst. Why bother speaking at all when everything is wrong? If you don't speak you are yelled at, your partner is dragged into the water, because they don't understand that you have nothing to say, that you can't think of anything to say, that you want to say something but you can't, you don't know what to do, you don't know what to say, everything you do is wrong and it's your fault. You are drowning yourself. You are making yourself feel this way. You choose to stay in the water, or stay out of the water. You decide between drowning and dissociation. You choose not to see. They are your eyes. It's your fault. Your fault. Your fault.
Your fault.

Your cries for help are cut off as you sink below the water.