Should they next ask
"How
Can I help"
I may say
"Stop leaving marks on me
And I'll stop
Marking
Myself."

Can I tell you all a story,
the story of lost love,
the story of regret,
the story of pain.

My story written in red across my arms,
across a fading attachment to reality,
across my shattered heart,
its pieces on the floor that I sink to,
so slow.

Can I tell you this story,
of constant life-or-death,
of feeling the end nearing,
my conclusion to this novel,
of my self-destructing life.

One more line in my story written in red,
have I gotten what I deserve?
Did I deserve any of this at all?

Perhaps you felt stressed by what we had,
because I'm just so ****** up,
because I need to be told
I won't be given up on,
since my intuition says
it's surely inevitable

I told you it was anxiety,
but I saw you leaving,
the one I loved more than anyone,
the one I still love more than anyone,
the one I trusted not to give up on me,
the one that promised she wouldn't give up.

I wonder, as I float in limbo,
when does this pain end?

i'm tired
i'm tired
i'm tired
i'm so ******* tired
**tired

I was afraid I would lose you.                                                    And then I did

I stare at the crowd
rapid breath intakes
sweaty palms
I can't do this

I look back at her
telling her I can't do it
don't overreact
she says

my heartbeat is deafening
faster
faster
as if it wants to escape

I can do this
I think
but i know I can't

I'll fail
fail
f a i l

I feel nauseous
why am i so stupid
all I have to do is go there
just walk
**** it
why am i afraid?

I can do this,
I convince myself again
but my heart and sweaty palms
told me otherwise  

I look back to her again
with my pleading eyes
on the verge of crying

it's so simple
how can you fail,
everyone else can do it
she says

simple for her,
but I am not her
nor everyone else

why are you forcing me?

i bite my lip,
so hard that it's bleeding

I stammer
but- I - can't-do- it

why can't you understand?