Look at me. Look directly at me. In my eyes. You've never seen me before.

Now, for the first time you can.

I want you to know who I am. Not the person you've grown to know and love. That's not me. It never was. It never will be.

That's the person who comes out when others are around.

I've shut you out. Locked you up and threw away the key. But I have searched long and hard for that key again. I want to let you out of your tiny box that you have been unknowingly shoved into.

You'll step outside and be afraid, not liking what is presented before you.

I'm not ready for you to see me, but feel you should know what you're getting involved with.

I am like space. Empty. There's nothing there. What was once was joy is now overridden with misery.

A few attempts have been made to take it away, but I regret those mistakes I made. Regret they never worked.

The incisions that are made and remedies that are swallowed are only a temporary "relief ", if you can even call it that.

I've come to realize that I don't want to die, yet I don't want to live.

I'm stuck in limbo, and limbo is where I will stay. Locked up from the rest of the mess.