Dear God,
I don’t come here much and maybe it’s too late.
But I can’t carry this silence anymore.
I obsess over the smallest things
until they grow teeth and tear at my mind.
I should be living, enjoying,
but instead I choose the comfort of hanging by threads,
watching my self-worth burn and calling it home.
I pretend I don’t care what anyone thinks,
but that’s the farthest thing from the truth.
I care so much it hurts
and yet my pride locks my mouth shut.
Please fix me.
Because I don’t know who I’ll be if I’m happy and that terrifies me more than the pain I live in.
Happiness feels wrong in my skin,
like I’m wearing someone else’s life.
I have memories I won’t speak of.
Traumas that claw at my sleep.
People I avoid,
family I can’t face.
Words I wish I could take back.
Things I’ve done to others,
things I’ve done to myself,
and parts of me I am not ready to repair.
I’ll admit I’m lonely,
but I won’t admit I need help.
I am losing hope,
and before I do something I can’t undo
please, God
Teach me to live,
to live for real.
Not just to survive.
Not just to exist.
If You can't teach me how to live, then at least let me forget what it feels like to want more.