In My Head
“There just thoughts.”
“Demons in your head.”
“They can’t hurt you.”
But that’s the problem. They’re in my head.
I do all the hurting, and nobody sees them.
Nobody sees when they claw my insides
Or when they scratch hate in my eyes.
When they burn the midnight oil,
Frying and rewiring my mind.
Or when they bind my chest tight,
Cutting off circulation
Till all is black in sight.
They’re in my head,
Every fucker that wades in my wave pool
Of dread.
No one can hear what it says,
Or how bad it wants me dead.
Maybe it doesn’t, but I do.
To escape, I tried to sleep,
But the pills only fooled them
For so long.
During the day, it’s not too bad,
Like a repeated song.
But at night, they play
Their marching band.
They bang their gong.
Begging me gone.
I think when I have a headache,
I wonder, looking at my bottle of Tylenol:
How many would it take
For me not to wake up at all?
Because it’s all in my head,
Nobody saw.
No one asked how I was doing,
’Cause on the outside, I was running,
But inside, I’m in a fetal crawl.
I wish somebody would see
How truly long it’s been since I’ve been me.
How long has it been
Since my thoughts were my own?
How long since “I’m fine”
Wasn’t the only emotion I could show?
The pills would take me away forever,
But if I cut my wrists, no one would know.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
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