No One Listens to the Eclipse

Trigger Warning: intrusive thoughts & physical sickness/gore

Talking to me is like talking to an eclipse that wasn’t supposed to happen

leaving everyone both mildly confused and scared yet awed all at the same time.

The trail of wonder I strive to leave behind in this world

a bleeding trail of red.

My intestines laying as a buzzing heap on the ground

that you walk past without question.

I carry my hurt around with me

like a purse.

Take it everywhere I go.

Don’t think twice about leaving it at home;

feeling tethered to it like a ball to a chain

I carry my hurt around with me

like an IV bag.

Have it hooked into my arm.

The only thing I am living off of

yet am tired of surviving on.

I just want be released from the tethers

that are tying me here.

The ropes around my ankles

that seem to get tighter and tighter

with each passing day.

The day my professor says I’m “suddenly sick”

because of a deadline

is the day I remember

that people will not always believe me

when I say that my hurt is what is keeping me tied to this Earth.

I don’t tell her my sickness has been happening for the past three weeks

I don’t tell her that I’m tired of the walls of the bathroom stall

yet still find myself trapped inside them.

I don’t tell her that I genuinely wanted to get the assignment in on time

but everytime I sat down to do it,

my brain would go blank

and all words would escape me

and I would find myself somewhere else

because my brain has stopped loading this reality

into existence.

My hurt is why I am late.

My hurt is why I make excuses to stay in bed.

My hurt is why I am somehow still alive

yet dead.

My hurt is why

I am an eclipse.

A sun blocked by a moon,

leaving me to only see eyes.

I try to tell you to see me for why I am truly here

but you only look.

You only look and then turn away.

No one listens to the eclipse.

Only stop and stare

at her marvelous beauty

and wonder

and then leave.

Go about their day.

They do not see that she is hurting too.

They do not see that she is silenced by the same people who raised her up high.

They do not see that she whispers stories to herself

in hopes that someone will one day hear them

and come save her.

They do not see that she is trying her best to live

just like you are.

No one listens to the eclipse.

Only stares,

wonders about her marvelous beauty,

and leaves her silenced

inside her own darkness.