It Wasn’t All About Me

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Image by KELLEPICS on Pixabay

It wasn’t that I didn’t know you love me,

but because I was buried too deep.

Too dark for me to feel or even see your love.

I never wanted to leave you,

I just didn’t have it in me to keep fighting the monsters.

And today when you ask me why I did it?

Why I took those damned pills?

How selfish could I be?

Didn’t you stop to think about us?

I don’t know how to answer you.

Hear me this,

I swear I wasn’t trying to be selfish,

It wasn’t influenced by how bad or good my life is.

I am just tired.

tired of being me,

tired of pretending to be okay,

tired of being depressed,

tired.

just tired.

I didn’t love you less then,

I love you so.

it’s not the death of me I sought,

I just needed too kill the way i felt,

shut up the incessant chatter in my brain,

have a break from feeling,

like the worst most unworthy,

and unlovable creature on earth.

It is not selfish nor cowardly.

It is not to hurt you.

It is pure unadulterated desperation.

I need you to understand that the pain,

the devastations,

the emotions,

they are real.

And even though i survived,

I still have to face the demons in my head.

its something I get to deal with daily,

and the stigma only adds up to the shame.

It wasn’t all about me,

I swear.

It wasn’t a cry for attention,

I never needed it or asked for it.

It could have been the never-ending pain of trying to live in a world I believe I don’t belong in.

But it wasn’t all about me.

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