I don't know if I've ever been good enough...

and I don't know if I've ever been really loved.
I don't know how to explain to people that worrying about me only makes it worse. I feel bad for making them worry and that just trips everything up again. It's a petty, vicious cycle, but thus is my mind. No, I'm not okay - but I'm going to do my damn best to put on a strong face and not let you know. I'd rather fix a million of your worlds than let any of you touch mine.
You don't have to worry when I'm with people, or just talking to them. It's when I'm alone with myself and my thoughts and my caustic words that you should worry - but that's generally when you don't think about me so it works perfectly. Leave me here in the night where things are dark and simple and I can eat my own heart because I've got nothing left to sacrifice.
In the morning, I'll be with you, but it will be a different kind. When the sun rises, I'll smile and giggle and pretend just for you, because watching the pain and confusion in your eyes when I freeze up or someone points out the scratches on my arm is worse than anything I do to myself. On that note, I should probably make an effort to wear longer sleeves for a few days, until some of those scratches fade.
I'm still me, and you're still you, but we've changed everything with a few words. I've always known how much power words have but I've never experienced it like this before. I said so many brave things to you that night but I didn't mean a single one. I'm not a brave person. I'm not particularly strong. I'm just trying to keep it together to spite everyone who told me I'd break down.
This is year is feeling more and more like my senior year of high school. What is it about me that loses friends like this? Please just walk away already. Stop stringing it out so that it hurts more. If I didn't know you like I do, I'd pretend you were the kind of person that messes with people like me. I know that isn't true thought, and for all the lies I tell myself, I can't believe that one.
I've lost my words and the power they contained. I've lost my heart and I'm not sure I'll ever find a shred. I'm dreaming things that terrify me, and the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had because those have an ending. If I could come to terms with the lack of love and the lack of friends and the overwhelming fear and pain, I'd be fine...
This is not a cry for attention. This is not a plea for help. This is not a threat or anything. This is who I am.