December 9th

 I promised myself on December 9th

That I wouldn't fall back after that night

That I would say goodbye

To the object that I hid in plain sight

That I wouldn't use it as my escape

That if I ever needed I'd just pump the breaks

That I wouldn't give what I couldn't take

That mental health wouldn't get in the way

That I could be fine and be okay okay

Keeping the tears, hiding the fears

Remembering the pain as if it were a pleasure

The sharpness a tool that I could measure

Measure my own feelings under the weather

Sweatshirts being relied on as a small tether

I want to go back and do it again

It felt good to just pretend

Pretend that it was the thing that made me spend

That it was the only problem I had often

In reality, I would use it as a fake coffin

Hiding the actual problems away

A distraction and price I was willing to pay

And yet  I promised myself on December 9th

That I wouldn't fall back after that night

That I wouldn't use one demon as shelter from another

That just because there's two doesn't mean they are brothers

The illness coming into the middle of my own storm

Trying to find a place that even resembled the warmth

Being like a duck and flying back up north

Knowing I couldn't escape these feelings forever

As I continue to remind myself of the promise I made in December