Deadpan Stares.

 

your questions

deserve an answer –

one i’m afraid to give.

because there’s no easy way

to tell someone

you don’t want to be here.

 

when you ask if i’m okay

and i say i’m alright

‘just tired’

i’m not lying

it’s just a bit more complicated

than i admit.

 

you want the truth,

i know.

i know my deadpan stares

and my silence

keep you at a distance

that you don’t belong.

 

but how do i tell you

about the demons i fight

every morning,

just to live another day

another hour

another second on this earth?

 

how do i show you

the claw marks

on the inside of my rib cage?

and the graffiti

on the walls,

inside my head?

 

the constant battle

to stay on this planet

is fought with an iron mind

holding these thoughts tight,

stabilizing the dam walls –

for God forbid they collapse.

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