// TW - suicidal thoughts and feelings hopelessness. Skip if needed \\
It's nights like these when I feel the maggots under my skin crawling around, trying and break free from their prison so they can breathe and all I can do is lie back and keep my hands trained at my sides as streams of salt water fall from my eyes and soak the pillow beneath my head.
It's night like these when I can't bother to turn to the things that I love - a song, a poem, a book - to keep me sedated and I fall asleep listening to constant hum of the air conditioner along with my own labored breathing.
It's nights like these when I want to turn the airplane mode on on my cellphone, lock it away in a drawer and let it collect dust as the rest of me stiffens from lack of movement and the rest of my insides shut down from lack of attention and care.
It's nights like these that I forget the fear of 'what if I don't wake up tomorrow?' and hang myself in the balance of the fear of 'what IF I wake up tomorrow?'
It's nights like these when my chest constricts, and my eyes burn, and my stomach growls, and my head is pounding and my fingers bleed from where I've bitten the nails all the way down to their nail beds.
It's nights like these that I remember every single solitary thing that has ever made me feel worthless and curse every single solitary person who used me, tarnished me, battered me, threw me away and had me convinced that I was better off dead.
It's nights like these that I agree.
It's nights like these when everything hurts.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe Enough is Enough (poetry collection 2)Poetry
I write poetry. I don't write like this. I don't talk about my Life Demons Heartbreak Pain Tragedies like this. Maybe it's about time I did.