The Day Before I Killed Myself

I woke up with a feeling of warmth 

As soon as my body leaves my bed I no longer feel warm

I can't provide myself warmth until my brain allows

But when is that

How is that I am so unfortunate when it comes to self control

I skip breakfast and run instead 

Its an healthy addiction I have when Im stressed

I run about 5 times through out the day for hours on end

This healthy addiction with so many others is to only replace my past deadly actions

I run until my body aches even then I still don't stop

Pain is something I see differently

I feel differently

It feels like nothing but at least something

I know sometimes I talk in riddles that are hard to figure out

I guess I learned from the best

From life of course

It gives you so much to swallow all at once

You have no choice you either find your way out or be trapped

Even the easist thing can feel like a maze

I go to school 

I work until the end

Then I try to get up again

To stretch

To study

To play

All healthy addictions that I try to do everyday

Even though my demons want one addiction to remain

And no its not healthy

Not in anyway

Instead its deadly and creats such a sin

A sin I used to give everything and my life too

Now clean

Some hate the word sober

I sometimes get sad out of no where then angry

All at myself

I want to cause pain only to myself

I punch

I scratch

I rip myself a part

I feel like I deserve it

Because what I deal with there is no one else to blame

I don't know if its from old trauma

Or simply because Im sick of myself

Im sick of having to cover my ears to blast my music until my head starts to ache

When I just want to sit and be a part of reality with everyone

Look out the window and listen to the wind and laughter to not miss a joke

To the point now I don't even want to get out anymore

I don't see a point in the simple things or a simple drive for no reason

To much comes with it

Going out comes with a price and Im sick of paying

Im sick of people having to watch what they say even the sounds they make

Im sick of my fragile self almost everyday

I can't even take being around my own family because Im scared to have to cover my ears

To have to blast my music

To worry about a sudden outburst or a slight mood change Isolation will be my new name

Ill leave early or don't come at all

Living a life seen as normal comes with a side of pain that I don't need anymore of

I avoid

I know I seem like a party pooper but I can't help not standing to be in one place

I have became so paranoid I rather run with my head space 

To stressed to bothered all because of what

Living?

I ask myself what is it that has changed

I answer

You

See I don't understand

How? I reply

Remember you know your purpose you understand your god

You know what you actions can cause for others

Even if you don't believe it you would never want to take the risk to hurt anyone

You shouldn't even want to hurt yourself

I think to myself

Why is it so easy to forget the brightest moments 

And the hopeful thoughts

I want to kill the me I am today

The me I was yesterday

The day before that

Me the year before

I want kill what is harmful to me

So I will this is the day

The day before I killed myself

But its not what you think

I simply removed the impostor of me and kept me

The real me

The truth is I kill myself everyday

I get rid of all the thoughts that invade my mind

I get up and eat

I get up and shower

I get up study or run or stretch

I go to sleep maybe late but Im trying

See the simple things kill what is draining me inside

Trying is all that matters

And yes by the end of the day

After that night the me before is dead

I hope that one day I don't have to kill myself again

Because there is nothing else I no longer need to get rid of

The only thing that will remain is me

I must protect me

Copyright ©2021 Tia Davis. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the author or publisher. All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in the author's base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tia Davis.