Stuck in the Past

The tears,
they come and go.
Of my pain
they'll never know.

My chest
rises and fall.
But I'm not truly
alive at all.

I'm just a ghost
of my former self.
So what's the point
of seeking help?

The counseling,
it never worked.
Maybe I'm blinded
by my lack of worth.

My friends
cry out to me.
"Stop", they say,
"You can be free."

I smile sadly
and know they're wrong.
They've never been
this lost so long.

I distance myself
a bit more each day.
That way it feels like
I'm fading away.

That's what I'm doing
if you think about it.
I'm losing myself
bit by bit.

I repeat to myself
the words they said.
"Pathetic, fat, worthless,
We wish you were dead."

I recall their words
and strike again.
These bruises and cuts
assuage the pain.

Relief won't last long.
The pain will come back.
And then once again
I'll be stuck in the past.