The final act of it all drawing to a close at last and freedom awaits.  
Feeling the air come back in my lungs as I stand in mind.
The spotlight slowly burning out, growing dimmer and dimmer.
But why?
My light should be brighter than ever yet,
It’s dark.
Everywhere I look is black and yet I feel contained?
But I was just about to be free..
what happened..?

I stand alone in my mind. A spotlight shines down on me.
Portraying what I am really doing.
Staying.
Lost.

I have no thoughts just an endless echo of silence.
Fueled by hate, pain and sorrow.
Which to feel first?
It’s not like I smile anymore.

My smile was beautiful, it was simple.
Though it was so sincere, content and pure.
If only I could smile like that,
Would I be able to get out?  

The world keeps moving forward.
Just like the seasons, pushing towards winter, everyone around is moving.
I’m stuck. I can’t move my legs.
In cement locked in place with no one around to rescue me.

A sense of hope beginning to rise,
Just as quickly as the doubts that run through her mind.
Lost and frail,
Looking for a sense of peace that was once kept.
You are the King.
And as such,
A King always needs his jester.
A fool.
So she played the fool.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t feel anything.
What would be the point?  
To be in an endless hope and stagnant love?

Im glad you chose her.
It makes sense, all signs point to her and I’m just
Me.

Nothing special.
Never was..

Shoot even for my little sisters party.
Still treated like I’m less.
But I should be used to it.
Right?

To think I almost ******* believed it.
Of course I’m the joke.
I hurt you so ******* bad and I’m the one making lies.

Funny how you can’t do no wrong yet when I bring it up,
Tell you how you’re acting,
We can just brush it off.

Last I checked none of your so-called friends gave a **** about you almost killing yourself the three times you almost did.

I was made the joke to care for you.
Worry about you.
It was *******.
So thanks for making me home

This feels stronger than before,
Which means the harder the fall.
Anxiety telling me it won’t be no different.
I try to push past it and sometimes I do.
Sometimes I don’t.

We know who was at fault for everything,
Me because i liked to start ****.
Which is true no doubt,
But now I’m terrified to mess up again.

I want this to be different so bad.
Hope is creeping around everywhere I turn,
But so does that small whisper once and while.

You think it’ll be different, but it won’t.

Merp..
now what can I think.
It’s scary, and I don’t want either of us too hurt.
We did enough of that.
I just hope I can overcome this..

I picked up a beer to numb it out.
Not to enjoy it this time.
Everything is built up and if I have enough to drink I know I can say the words I think.
Even then..

Alcohol makes my mind weaker than it already is and then I’m forced,
Forced to say what’s on my mind..
Because that’s what happens when I start off.

Then it spirals.

The worst of the worst thoughts.
Anxiety is at the max and all I can do is
Cry.

Llora por el hecho de que nunca podría tenerte aunque lo dejara a un lado.
Porque está hecho..