The Cure

The scars that mar my wrists are deep. 

They are mountains etched into the plains of my skin.

When we met, you nearly wept at the sight of them.

You told me that I had to go on; that I wasn’t allowed to let my depression win.

But there were parts of this illness that you didn’t understand.

Like how I began to feel when I kept my emotions bottled up and canned,

Or that all my problems seemed to stem from home.

But because I love you,

I have somehow changed.

When I feel that the world is crumbling from underneath my feet,

You’re in the back of my mind reminding me to “just breathe.”

When I lay next to you and listen to your heart beat,

I am reminded that this is living, we are here.

And because I love you,

I’ve chose to go on and live this life

Because nothing worth doing is worth only half doing.