You swore that I could trust you, but it wasn't something I could hold
Promising your presence, and yet I walked a lonely road
Offering pieces of the puzzle, that were never quite enough
With one foot out the door, you said don't ask me for too much

You became complacent, considered us a guarantee
A half full kind of love, you saw as my remedy
The hero in your story, knowing you could tame me when you tried
Expecting I was gracious, you held your head up high

Now with hindsight in your corner and nostalgia a friend
You claim you've learned your lesson, your old self you do transcend
Though you're seeking recognition and praise for all your change
I sense that inside lurking, is a monster barely caged

I am tired now mum...
Before you died you promised I would be okay...
For you I have tried,
But without you here, not even perfect can satisfy my desire to make you proud

I wear breaking point like a gold star,
I have torn myself down so much,
That optimism feels like self indulgence

And after all this, I still feel like I have failed you

I would give up my future, for one more minute with you

I would reach inside myself and tear my necrotic heart from its self pitying home,
I would throw the last fragments of my confidence into the breeze,
I would finally succumb to the darkness that whispers to me

Because I miss you so much, that the option of survival makes me sick

On days like this... I want to submit and take the prescribed pills,
To resurface from my own created ocean of pessimism
To have the sunlight feel like a blessing instead of a curse

I want to feel like the one who can,
Or perhaps I just want an answer to the question
"Whats wrong?"

Everyone has secrets,
Me... well I will push myself to breaking point
Until I am sure I have done everything to make my mother proud of me
And then I will break
Enough to make shiny knifes look perfect against my skin

Subtle steps towards the depth,
The darkness lies in wait,
It lures you with shiny things,
And tortures you like bait

Your fears it will feed upon
It likes you sick and frail,
You wonder when you got so small
Your skin now stretched and pale

But daylight it shall come again
Just like the times before,
Hold tight onto catastrophe
And try to brave the war

I am no hero,
Myself I won't save
In dawn's early hours
I arrive at my grave

Waiting he sits there
He knew I would come
He offers me flowers
And yet I don't run

My coffin it beckons
Who am I to resist
I am a shadow at best
Who barely exists