Damn, that felt good. I would say I’m sorry for making you read that but I’m really not. I wanted to show you what anxiety and depression look like and I was in it when it was the only reality I could see so I don’t want to apologise.
Now, to the “beautiful saviors” themselves, the mental illnesses.
but you’ve lived inside of me
For more years than I can count
And I don’t want to accidentally say I hate myself.
Come on, you already made me do that
nine thousand and two times
(not counting accidents).
You say you’re here to protect me from all the abhorrent people
but they seem to me, to be
the ones who birthed you within me
And now you want me to be the surrogate carrier?
I’m sorry but I don’t love you that way
Or them, for that matter.
You’re not here to save me
from anyone but myself.
And I’m the only good thing I know
I don’t want to be safe from my best friend,
Or my mom
Or even the boy who left,
These are my loves.
You can’t twist them and break me
and take them away.
I know I fell for your tricks
and that should make me less than you
I am strong as hell.
And you can watch me someday,
spreading all the love I have in me,
today. And so can they.
For my heart will forever be open
Even if it’s scared to fall in love again
Even when it can’t trust people
or want to make my own bed
or pray to my Allah.
You won the battle last night,
and I am going to have to carry these scars on my arms
as proofs, forever.
I’m winning the war.