When I say I'll fix it, I don't mean for you.

Everything about me burns, but not with passion. It's a slow burn, like one would expect from a lit stove, or car engine. Not all consuming, but enough to make you uncomfortably warm.

It cooks my speech. Flays my sight. Promises blankets of solace, and instead delivers smothering tendrils of smoke. Touch my cheek. Rest your observations on the pink that seemingly speaks in demure humility. I am not willing.

I am heated.

Of course I remember yesterday
It's not as if it was so far away
It's just that nothing I know now seems to matter
Because I won't believe it

I can't live like how I lived before you
Everything else is dust in the wind
The things I planned for
Things I longed for
I don't even care if none of it's true

You took my will and twisted it
You stole my motivation
There is no purpose, no more goals
No more cause for celebrations

I want to live again or die
But coasting here is torture
There's nothing here
Will never be
And if someone will ask of me
To give of me
To take from me
I couldn't say no because there is no reason to be or not to be

I want to lie in my bed
And never wake up again
These voices in my head
Talk but never listen
I feel my body shiver
From all the screams I hold inside
There’s no more motivation
But I want to live, not just survive

I can sense the tears he cries
And feel the pain he tries biting down
I’m powerless to help him
So I cry too and watch him drown
He’s everything I am inside
And as he suffers from the pain
I’m too cowardly to tell him
That I am just the same

Does he feel the same electric pulse?
Does he also want to die?
Does he close his door at night
So that no one sees him cry?
He won’t admit to anyone
He thinks he hides it well
Maybe I am just like him
Maybe everyone can tell