you know it's funny

every session i have with my therapist

starts with her asking me

“how are you?”

or, “how have you been?”

and for some reason

i always answer

“i've been good!”

the one person i pay

to not judge me-

that i pay to listen to

everything

bad about me

i put on a facade for her

and i hide in my emotions

in my head 

because im safe in there.

i've tried to get better.

i take my meds(on most days). 

and i try to get better.

but apparently turning everything into a joke

isn't healing.

but when people tell me it's unhealthy

all i hear is 

thati'vebeenannoyingandishouldjustshutupbecauseihavenothingimportanttoaddandijustmakeeverythingajokeanditakenothingseriouslynotevenmyselfanditslikei’mnoteventrying tohelpmyselfsowhydon'tijust 

stop 

talking. 

i've gotten too comfortable in my own skin

so i peel away the parts of me 

i think are intrusive

and i climb out of my shell 

further and further out until i am so 

small i can fit on your fingertip

but at least you're holding me.

you cant hear me when i'm that small

isn't that convenient? 

does this work for you?

people tell me that this mentality 

is apparently unhealthy too.

making myself so small 

and vulnerable people are

stepping on me 

without even realizing it

but i made myself a doormat 

so who's really to blame?

not them, i'll take all the blame on myself

put down pound after pound of 

blame and fault on 

my tiny weak shoulders

but i'll do it if it means i'm not a burden.

and once every month-

when i've been carrying too much

the tidal wave writhing within 

erupts through me

shattering my eardrums

my face is torn apart as

everything on my shoulders

launches like a grenade 

hitting everyone close to me

point blank between the eyes

the eyes that looked 

too willingly

right over my struggles 

for so long

it’s difficult to feel bad

for everyone who didn’t try

but of course it's my fault 

i was too quiet.

but i thought that's what You wanted?

i thought that as long as You didnt have to hear or see

me hanging onto the edge of the hand on a clock

ticking towards my demise

that the timer wouldn't go off

that if You just hit snooze to shut me up

the problem would go away

but it’s back and louder than before

but You are still hitting snooze

because if You turn on Your other side

it's not your fault.

its mine

it's always mine.

at least that's what people tell me. 

personally I'd like to tell myself what to do for a change.

I'd like to scream from the hilltops that

I’m taking prozac because it's not something to be

Whispered about.

I’d like to stand up for myself when

People think they can step on me.

I’d really like to take a day to myself

To shower

To eat

To sleep

To laugh without caring if its too loud

To cry if I need to and not hold it in

Because some girl in elementary told me 

I was an ugly crier.

I'd like to make jokes for myself, 

because they make me feel better.

I'm trying to feel better

And I'm going to do it for me.