Holding On

Do not look at me as if you could possibly understand.
You're treading, here, on untouched land.
You used to be my mommy, the woman comforting me.
Now you just try to tell me who to be.

I'm sorry I'm lacking seratonin,
I'm sorry that I'm always moaning
But take my hands and trust me when I say,
There's not much I can do about it today
Except take my medication, and pray.

I try to be so strong,
I know the list of loved ones I posess is long,
But when I'm called over-dramatic in the midst of when I really feel like dying,
That's what starts me into the long days of crying.

The scissors often look so beautiful,
I get antsy, start picking my cuticles.
I wonder, if there's a way that no one would find out?
The distraction of the pain they cause would drown out my sadness without a doubt.
I feel my eyes wet, I'm a failure for merely thinking this
I plunge into yet more abyss.

It's nothing new,
I will stay strong, I will get through.