I need somebody to love me.
No, not your half-arsed attempt to save me from suicide.
You tell me you love me
And you say my mind is lying.
But really, you're the liar here.
I need somebody to be there in the good times, not just the bad;
To tell me they're proud of me when I go a whole depressive episode without self harming;
To put aside their self consciousness and cross the room to hug me when I'm crying;
To tell me they love me, 10, 20, 30 times a day and not get sick;
To put themselves and their recently-arisen issues to one side and first focus on me, when they know how bad I feel;
To ask me how I am, every day, or when I'm bad, every hour.
Can you truthfully say you do all of these?
Can you truthfully say you do any of these?
Go on, look me in the eye, no, right in the eye, and say it to me.
Can you?
I thought as much.
Then how can you say you even partly love me?
YOU ARE READING
Into the Depths of Despair
Poetry"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind. At these times, I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and...
