Imaginary

Ninety pounds of pressure
Relax on my injured shoulders-
And on my sore chest,
Slowly suffocating me,
Gently pulling the noose
Tighter and tighter.

Yet I a alone,
Alone stuck in a dark corner
Jailed for mistakes
And for stating the truth.
I reach up my hand for help-
Yet she ignores it.
She said I'm imagining things.

I gently faint,
I delicately break,
I'm slowly losing myself-
Yet she insists
That it's all in my head
Imaginary.

I need help.
I am lost in darkness and fear.
I am slowly losing my mind.
I delicately become a nervous wreck
Yet she mocks me.
She tells me to stop pretending
To tell myself it's not real,
To tell myself I don't need help,
To tell myself I'm not depressed, no,
That I need to tell myself
I have nothing to fear.

Oh, sure,I'm just fine-
Having panic attacks
Not sleeping at night
Crying for no reason.
Sure,it's all in my head-
I don't need and never will need
A freakin' therapist!

Oh, no, therapists can't help me.
I can only help myself.
When will she react?
Only when things will get out of hand?
Only when the noose will be too tight
To breath
To speak
To function?

Maybe one day I'll stop eating.
Maybe one day I'll starve myself to death.
Maybe one day I'll jump.
Maybe one day I'll crash.

How long will it take her to realize,
That I've been depressed since I was twelve?
How long it will take her to realize,
That it's not all in my head-
That it's real?

Oh, why do I kid myself.
She'll never see it.
She'll just say
That I'm a teenager and it's normal
Or that I simply love to be miserable.

So I sit in the corner,
In the dark, jailed,
Waiting for the noose slowly,to get tighter.
In time
It will murder me.