It's costing me all I got to give
Just to dig myself out of this hole
I can't figure out why I was meant to live
Or how I can make myself feel whole

I can't afford to deal with this pain
That's been going on for so long
Even sheltered from the rain
I find a way to do something wrong

It's a struggle just to get out of bed
And go on living a life so empty
I can't erase these thoughts from my head
You can't understand what they do to me

we write when we're at our weakest
we write when we've been cut open
we write when we're bleeding
we write when we're dying inside

Not all those who write are sad,
but all sad people write.