Music is white noise
Destroying my eardrums
Muffling the screeches around me
Drowning out my own sobs
The louder the music,
the number I feel
Yet the pounding bass
Is the only thing I can sense

i would rather die than have to face the life i am living right now

i've tried to start writing again a dozen times. at least. but i think of every single one of you every time.

most people view writing as a release. some sort of blissful experience where letting their fears flow out of their minds and onto a paper is relaxing. detoxifying. some sort of therapy that they can provide for themselves that no one else can.

i don't.

writing is protection. writing is a safety net that causes suffocation. writing is hiding behind ink that can just barely be traced back to your own true thoughts and words.

writing is you. writing was never me.

but that's why i cling to it so tightly, isn't it?

Do you really think you've won if I am the one who came out stronger, and you're still pained and miserable?

i listen to the same album on repeat, hoping it will make me feel like i used to

how can i simultaneously be moving forward while falling back so fast i can't recognize the hell i'm returning to until i'm already there