Help Me Be Honest

Help me be honest

because I am afraid.

The fear runs deep within me,

slithering through my veins,

and tightening around my throat like a noose.

Within me, I hold such darkness,

such pain,

such terror.

Within me, I hold too many secrets,

too many lies,

too many facades

that could destroy me.

I am afraid

to let them out.

Not because of your judgments,

or your opinions.

Not because I will strip myself raw,

exposed for all the world to see.

I am not afraid of you.

I am afraid of me.

Who might I become when I set these secrets free?

What might I turn into when I open up the darkness inside of me?

Writing it down

makes it real,

and the last thing I want

is for it all to be real.

I spin in circles in my mind,

crying, clutching my chest because oh my god, that happened to me,

staring blankly at the ceiling and not recognizing myself in the mirror because right now nothing is real,

gasping for air and pulling at my hair because I’m hurting so damn much,

plastering smiles on my face and faking I love you’s because suddenly I feel nothing at all.

I twirl till I’m sick to my stomach

and dizzy in the head.

The never-ending cycle

holding me hostage,

and the only thing I want

is for that cycle to end.

I have to let the darkness out.

I have to set it free.

I have to let it change me.

Because who I am right now,

she isn’t real.

She’s a construction of my mind,

a girl built on lies and fantasies.

The real me,

hasn’t even been born yet,

a combination of all the old me’s and the me’s I’ve yet to become,

the girl who didn’t conquer her darkness,

but pulled it to her chest like a lost child.

That girl

is waiting for me

patiently

in the outstretched arms of the future.

And in order to finally meet her

I have to release the darkness within me.

So help me be honest.

Help me let go.