i can keep myself together,
really well,
until i'm asked if i'm okay.
and please believe me when i say:
i don't mean to be destructive,
i don't mean to be weak and let my
mascara run while i fall apart,
i don't mean to scream at you to stop
when you stretch your arms out
to comfort me and to kiss me,
but i've been avoiding asking myself
that question, because i know
i'm not okay.
im just here in hopes that everything will sort've come together,
even if it does just keep getting worse.

i don't know what the hell
is wrong with me
it's been months since ive taken a pill
or consumed enough alcohol
to make myself sick
and yet here i am wishing for both

my mother keeps telling me
i need to go to bed earlier,
i need to get more sleep,
i have bags under my eyes,
but she doesn't understand that
im not tired, im just in love.

I'm afraid of being alone
For all my torture begins there
That's where all my thoughts come alive
And speak to me
Makes sense?
It doesn't to me either

They all gather around me
And begin a convention
Of my life from its very
Beginning to its present
The constant reminder of
What a failure I am

And all these thoughts
In just a matter of seconds.
As I hold my head in fear of
What my life has become
As I begin to peel my flesh off
As I begin to lay a knife near my chest

I wake up from this nightmare
But how can it be a nightmare
If its how I feel and think
All day everyday?