When I used to have bad nights,
I would lie awake and cry,
curled up in a ball on my side
clutching a blade so hard my knuckles turned white
trying to fight
but I didn't know which voice was mine.

Fall asleep too late,
in my dreams I would suffocate
and have bloodshot eyes when I'd wake,
but reassure my mom with my arms around her waist
yeah, I'm great.

Now when I have those evenings,
I try to keep from screaming,
but I can still feel your heart beating
when I read your messages that I can't bear deleting,
and I write all these texts to you that will never be completed
because I told you to go away but I hadn't planned for your leaving.

Close my eyes when the darkness recedes,
the nightmares are always you and me
and I take Tylenol to finally get some relief
but my hands are red and they will never be clean;
I'm sorry for the times I made you bleed.