That feeling inside of me
makes death feel wanted.
What is the point in trying
to be something, anything to you?
I’m empty inside.
Pride is lost
and forgotten.
How can I feel like before?
Before my life started crumbling,
stumbling.
I tried to end this pain,
trying to explain
but nobody would listen.
It was more than enough.
Now I watch the pain glisten,
filling me with emotion,
something I was lacking before.
It’s a silent cry for help,
which has become somewhat of a habit,
something I cannot end.
I’ve already come too far
to even try and pretend that I’m alright.
I’m not alright.
Can’t you see?
You’re too blinded to even notice
but look at what is happening to me.
All those bracelets and sleeves
were only hiding my shame.
I’ve gotten so lost within the past year.
My feelings are being tossed around,
roped and bound.
You don’t even know me anymore.
Always acting like something else on the outside,
but on the inside there’s a war.