I know what is it like..

How it hurts to smile..
but you do it.. just to keep them from getting too worried about you.
To keep them from asking questions, even if you wish just a little that
they might.

I know how the laughter doesn't sound joyful anymore.
It's hollow and empty and broken and everything it shouldn't be but
somehow is.
How it sounds like broken shards of glass smashing into one another..
I know how you could cry with the effort laughing takes.
How it hurts so bad to try.

I know what it feels like when everything pushing down on you breaks
what little resolve you had left.
How all the hurt.. all the pain.. all the heartache..
I know how it crushes you beneath it's weight.

I know what it's like to hurt yourself on the outside.
Trying and hoping so badly that it will kill that thing on the inside.
(But it never works, does it?)

I know what it's like that first time.
Watching the red creep slowly across your skin until it's running down
your arm and staining your carpet.
How good that pain feels, because it means you're still alive.
I know how, for those few seconds, everything feels ok again.
(But it crashes right back on you, doesn't it?)

I know what it's like to try and piece yourself back together with
small slices across your body.
Small slices that grow a little bigger every time..

I know what it feels like to wrap your arms so tightly around your
body that you have trouble breathing..
How you have to do it because no one else wants to hold you.
(And how scary it is when you realize that you aren't strong enough to
hold yourself together on your own anymore..)

I know what it is like to long for eternal sleep.
Just so you won't have to think anymore.
Just so you can finally rest, and not have to worry about the
nightmares.
How you long for disease, because you are too weak to do it yourself.

I've known the nights that you lay awake and are so afraid to move.
Because you know just how many pills it would take to knock you out
forever.
Because you know that they are just down the hall in the medicine
cabinet.. that it would be just like going to sleep.
No pain.. no blood.. no more breathing..

Because even that has become a chore these days.
And you have to focus on your breathing, just to keep from crumbling
completely.
(In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.)

I know the way the tears burn as they hit your flesh.
I know the ache of trying to fit in, but never being able to belong.
I know the way everything tears at you until you're coming apart at
the seams.
I know the ache of knowing that no one cares, or is willing to.

I know, because I have been there.
Because I *am* there.
You aren't alone.
Not completely, anyway.