Crawling, walking, running, sprinting

I feel the urge,

again.

And this time instead of stopping it

you

are causing it.

I tried to stop it.

I tried to put up road blocks to slow it down.

I used the drugs

and all the alcohol.

I hid my blades,

just to find them in my hand again.

I thought I could stop it,

but it went from crawling

to walking

to running

to sprinting.

I don't know how much longer

I can smile at you

and pretend

that you aren't destroying me,

killing me,

inside.

I smile.

I laugh.

I do everything I am supposed to do.

But then,

when I go to lay down at night,

the demons crawl,

and walk,

and run,

and sprint

back to me.

Just one cut,

they beg.

Just one slice.

Just one drop of blood.

I try to scream,

but it doesn't get out of my throat.

It appears they've used my own road blocks,

against me.

This isn't your fault.

You made me happy for so long.

You pushed this off.

But I am not the type of person

who is meant to be happy.

I am not the type of person 

who is meant to smile.

I am not the type of person

who can even get through a day sober.

You made me that type of person

for awhile.

But then it became too much.

And you left,

just like everyone who came before you.

But now no one will have to leave me.

For once, I'm doing the leaving.