Maybe my body is just a vessel for life to flow through.

Maybe the best medicine is to feel this passage of time.

I wonder if loving you was a symptom.
A desperate longing for the other end if the rain bow.
You were never a *** of gold, such purity can't lie.
Your colours arched over me,  blinding me.
I didn't see your lurked in the grey between.

Memories fade from me and I wonder if Ill miss the crazy that maybe you could be the one that makes me save me

Save yourself for yourself.
He was never listening.

Hold your own hands, your arms are strong enough to wrap you.
remember, his were cold anyway.

Be honest with yourself. Always.
You know you dont trust him.

You remember all those long walk on the beach?
Staying up late and talking for hours?

You remember that sense of home, whereever you two went.
Just remember that that was not him.

Let go of your fear of abandonement.
There nothing to fear if you love yourself.

It's been another long night, dimmed bath room lights.
Puffy red eyes stare back from a broken mirror, a broken mind.

My fantasies have become very strange, I disturb myself at least once a day.

I imagine, my helpless body sinking. Sinking down deeper into an unknown. A memory of the only breath that would last a lifetime. A lifetime two minutes long.

I go to the library to find peace of mind, to find myself in the pages of a medical journal.
On the pages will be blooms of hope in the names of tablets that can ease my worried mind.

The cold sludge will embrace me tightly. Covering my eyes so I can't see any of the pain anymore. Holding my limbs tight, to remind me that its always there. That deaths embrace is certain. That I will be at peace.

Papercuts cover my frantically searching hands, like warriors. They're fighting for my life, a war against myself. Cramming pages into my eyes and plugging my ears with facts. A Freudian overload, a desperate attempt to medicalise my state of mind.

The thick taste of salty sand fills my mouth, my breath gasps, my involuntary reflex to save my life. The silence comes, the voices fade away. Its bittersweet that my death brings my every fantasy.

They clatter as they hit the sink, prescribed nonsense designed to pull me into myself. Make me more compliant. Dig my own hole deeper. Make me easier for society to swallow, for you to deal with. My hands have finally saved me, poured away the mind-altering remedies. Showed me the only thing I ever needed was already part of me.