by Samuel
I need you
to get rid of me.
Not because I hate you —
but because I don’t trust myself
to stay gone
when the silence starts screaming again.
I keep ending up
in hospital beds
with tubes in my arms
and no one holding my hand
but pain.
Another surgery.
Another patch on a body
that’s breaking
under weight no one can see.
I tell them it’s liver.
I tell them it’s my stomach.
But the truth is
my soul is the one
that keeps bleeding out.
I need you
to hate me.
To block me.
To forget the softness
you once saw in me.
Because I don’t have the strength
to forget you first.
And if you leave even a window cracked,
I’ll crawl through it
with trembling hands
and half a heart
just to be hurt again.
So please—
erase me.
For both of us.
Before the next hospital
becomes my grave.