What If?

It’s easier to run and ride that’s what I learned to do growing up. I didn’t have the right love and support growing up in my family that every child needs. Who knew that something so dark could be hiding in plain sight or so long. How am I supposed to fully love someone when I don’t know how to love myself? I look in the mirror and see shame, discussed, embarrassed of what I have become. I don’t want to be this broken person for the rest of my days.

I said I’d never do it again but no one can stop me not even myself It’s what I do to feel alive in the dark moments. The rub of my shoe reminds me of the night before. I ask myself why is this so hard to heal the wounds that happened so long ago. Afraid of starting over when I’ve made it this far. Can’t let go of the pain that weighs me down. I try so hard to cover it up and hide it in my closet of secrets. The closest door can only hold back so much before it breaks open.

It doesn’t hurt, it never has, sickening slide, stressed sting, stretch and slice still can’t feel a thing I should be happy. Only a small one, or two, or three. Hiding the evidence from the ones I love. I realize I’m destroying myself but people don’t know and can’t tell I’m falling apart. I can’t help myself, I’m tired of the numbness inside. Can’t runaway from this pain I feel inside. I smile, I laugh so nobody asks questions.