I'm both well and unwell.

So much to say, but so much that I cannot tell, at least not to anyone who might know me.

I don't know for sure if I want someone to see this, or no one to see this.

In any case, I keep thinking about the end. I'm afraid of it as much as I want it.

Like always, my thoughts and mind are torn in two but cannot escape each other.

The more I want to end myself, the more I want to save myself, and the more I see it futile, but the cycle loops.

I'm trapped in this state of stability, yet longing to be uncontrollable.

As my life solidifies, the more I feel it is uncertain.

Inside I scream for help, and outwardly I know I should not ask for it.

I seek change for the better, but stay comfortable in all remaining the same.

Change, change, change...

And it still all stays the same.

When I look in the mirror, I want to keep staring, and I want to run away.

I see someone, and I don't know if she's me or not.

Her eyes are beautiful, but I never want to see them again.

Her hair is flowing and pleasant, and it's a mess I can't control.

I want to love her, and I want to kill her, but I do not know who she is.

Tired...

I'm so tired, but I don't want to go to sleep.

I want to sleep forever, but I don't want to abandon everything.

The exit is right there, but I have to stay.

For me and for everyone. Even when everyone feels like no one.

I want to be helped, but don't try to help me.

Dreaming about ruining everything, and terrified of losing anything.

I'm safe. I'm under control. I have a grip on myself and my life.

I think about nooses, bullet cigarettes, knives, bridges, poisons, traffic.

But I'm in control. I don't want to go to sleep. But I'm tired.

Tired and so restless, but that's not a reason to pack it in.

Just have some more coffee, have a cup of tea.

Breathe deep, and feel the blood flow.

I'm at peace. Just for a moment.

It's enough, but it's never enough.

I want to hide, but I want to confront.

Procrastination, dismissal, surrender, strive, ambition, desire.

I want to be the woman I want to have.

So why do I hate who I am so much?

I want everyone to see me, and know how much I have to offer.

So I hide away where no one has to look at me.

I help myself. I hurt myself. I heal myself.

But it's still just myself. I want someone to step in.

They can't know. They shouldn't know. They won't know.

These are the things I'm not allowed to say.