Not Counting Sheep

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Tonight I am struggling, I am struggling to sleep
For, tonight it is surfacing, what I have buried deep

The recurring mantra that plays over and over
I want to be me no longer, no more
The vision of me cutting, cutting my skin
Replays in my mind, or me hanging from the door

The noose of my depression holds a tighter grip
My mind and my thoughts, what a sinister courtship
I am an artist whose canvas
Is the world where I am an actress

I act with a smile so you don’t see this badness
I hide it behind my sheer craving for happiness
This career of mine to be happy leaves me feeling bleak
For each day I live in darkness is another day I feel weak

Most days these thoughts float by like a leaf on a river
It is just some nights they scream and shout, I wish they were a whisper
I try to ignore them, but they seem to insist
Please know, I don’t want to die, it is I just don’t want to exist

Tonight I am struggling, I am struggling to sleep
For, tonight I count razorblades, not sheep

© Chantelle Dawn Skye
15th August 2017

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