I wanted to run to you the moment I heard the news, the moment my world seemingly fell apart, I still want to but you’re not there anymore.

You finally went away and I know you’ll be great.

Still.

I wish I could send you a text but if I delivered that message, it wouldn’t send, it would never reach you.

And I know it’s better for you.

I just wish it was that easy. But life isn’t ever that easy is it?

I can feel myself getting bad again, staying in bed constantly
Closing the curtains to leave my room almost completely dark
I feel the weight on my chest getting heavier
I stare at the messages I receive without replying
I simply don’t have the mental strength
I feel myself falling into that dark hole that I tried so hard to get out of
I need help
But I can’t see no one around
Just me, myself and I
And that’s not enough to last the night

The shrine I hold all the important people in my life is beginning to crumble, piece by piece.

All the pedestals are falling and I don’t have enough strength to catch them before they shatter:

The destruction around me is a distraction of the real pain I hold inside.

You see, as I watch my once priceless possessions begin to break and fall apart, I am the one that’s breaking and falling apart.

It’s like I am trying to seek help with duct tape over my mouth and my hands bound behind my back, chained to the floor of my inner mind.

When my shrine is in rumbles, here I’ll lay in the middle of the mess, unmoving and hopeless.

I’m always preaching that I want to change who I am,

yet,

I am unwilling to do the unnecessary steps so I remain as a self destructive person

I really do want to be better, that’s all I really want.

I listen to the same three songs on repeat on night, when I can’t sleep, when I feel sad, when I miss you.

Am I living in your dreams?

Do you feel sad over losing me?

Do you miss me?

When they all needed help, I was there, all they threw was a look and I was there.

Now when I need help, all I get is silence, it makes so upset but I don’t wanna choose violence.

Why do I always get the shorter end of the stick? They expect me to jump for them yet they won’t move for me?

I don’t even know why I bother anymore.

They ask ‘why him?’ as if I should be able to do so much better

but they don’t know that he’s just as damaged and twisted as I

I don’t want to waste the good boys time so I turn to the one who will accept the dark parts of me within every kissed shoulder and every grazed hand on my thigh

Perhaps filling the loneliness with him won’t be so bad, right?