Mendacious.

A whisper,
First heard when I was twelve years old.
My mind warns me                                                                     it’s all
Wrongwrongwrong.
This voice is not my own,
Is there a monster living inside my head?
She says her name is Chelsea.
She says she’s here to help                                                        me,
But monsters only hurt not help,
Right?
She says I’m uglyfatworthless,
That I don’t deserve to live.
Waste of space.
Why won’t she leaveleaveleave
Me alone?
Migraines cloud my head all caused by                                       her
Monsters are unwelcome, but she doesn’t care.
She only laughs the laugh that makes my ears bleed.
Who am I to tell the monster to go away?
I am nobodynobodynobody.
Or so she tells me.
She also tells me other things,
Whispered in the dead of night.
I am a useless                                                                  existence
She screams,
Or is it me?
She destroys things,
Or is it me?
I don’t know who to believe anymore.
Everything                                                                        is a lie.
Can I trust anyone?
Who do I turn to when my blood runs black,
Darkened by the sin she speaks.
Chelsea says it's good to feel pain,
Pain is all part of the process.
Chelsea says that the blade is my friend,
That the lines crisscrossing my skin will make me perfect.
Chelsea says that this metal killing machine won't kill me.
Just put it up to your head.
Don't pull the trigger yet.
Listen for the click, you won't feel a thing.
It's the least you can do after all I've done for you.
Please don't be afraid, I said it wouldn't hurt.
I'd never lie to you.