Decade Old Boat

tw suicidal ideation My mind’s fading to dark grey again. I’m like a boat drifting in the storm, struggling above the waves for a second just to go right back under again. I’ve been like this since I was six. Why does death feel So much closer than before? It used to be something I wished for But I knew I would never try to reach it. Now… I’m not so sure. I lost belief in God when I was young. No matter how hard I sobbed into my pillow No matter how fervently I prayed No matter how many times I tried to suffocate He wouldn’t let me die So my faith did instead. Now here I am again. Curled up on the shower floor Weak prayers falling from my lips Pleading to surrender to the darkness of sleep. I don’t want your pity, your worry, your “it’ll get better. Trust me.” I want to know why I’m like this. Why have I always thought I’m worthless and stupid and useless and someone no one wants to speak to or see or notice? Maybe then the storm will break. Maybe then the boat will stay afloat. Maybe then enduring sunlight will shine upon its bow.