drunk with sleep jotting words down
with the weight of heavy thoughts.
the image, the room, the clapping hands
tie my brain in knots.
nails through my arms, downward spiral
cascading into my head.
lonely space, a clustered room,
my irises were stained red.
the burden of pain seeps into my skin
where potted plants are shattered.
the flesh underneath slowly becomes
heavy and worn and tattered.
the weight of my limbs slowly snakes out
constricting my every breath.
time is against me, legs have grown weak
while running straight towards my death.
the smiles they wore, gingerly placed,
caused my eyeballs to melt away.
that knife in my chest burrowed down deeper,
but tonight, i'll let you stay.
the rain didn't cease, yet the sun was out
on the other side of the mirror.
the images scattered throughout my subconscious
left me feeling inferior.
"if this is the lowest i've ever been
the only way out is up."
my innards were spilling into the room
but i gave up on acting tough.
i lowered my fists and admitted defeat
my white flag proudly waved.
the various poisons that coursed through my veins
would escort me to my grave.
they say, when you're bit, you cut yourself open
to rid yourself of bad blood.
i've ****** myself dry but at this point in time,
i fear it isn't enough.
to escape with my life, to live everyday
as if to steal it from death.
i sit and ponder my existence
and wonder about what's left.
if this is the road carved into my core,
i'm uneasy to say that i'm ready.
i wipe tears from my face, brace myself
to try to hold my hands steady.
my palms grazed the surface, my fingertips yearning
for something hidden in me.
my hands clasp the handle somewhere in my being
to try to tear the knife free.
the crimson blood emerges, too,
and paints the air with pain.
if this i my life, i can only fight
to not live it out in vain.