My Thoughts

Thoughts pierce through her like a knife.
Why do you do this to yourself?
She can’t even function, all these thoughts racing.
Just breathe.
Her eyes are damaged and red with pain.
People always tell me I look pretty after I cry.
She steps outside for some air, and feels her frozen tears blister on her face.
Keep hold of yourself; Don’t lose control.
She drowns the world out and the music in.
No. Not that song.
She turns off the lights and curls up into a ball.
Don’t rock yourself off the bed.
She forgets what it feels like and falls asleep.
No, go away. Don’t follow me here too.