Relying on alcohol just to feel less dead.
It reminds me that I still have a soul and am aware enough of it
to cry my lungs out.
To gasp for air, suffocating
while I wail about the thoughts on how much I wanted to die.

Relying on the sense of sharp edges, seeking for comfort.
Ridiculous as hell how comfort was found from every razor-sharp of it.
Guilt builds up from every touch of it and there I am,
back to tripping over carelessness and regrets,
again and again.
Scrapes on my knees left scars and before the old ones heal
there appears fresh new ones.

Countless times I told myself it would be my last time,
countless times I apologize to myself,
having hot showers so the sting would remind me how dumb I am that
I should never do it again.
Struggling to be okay and yet I find myself longing for that sense of pain just to stop my trembling body.
How stupid.

One minute I'm insane and one minute I'm fine again.
So overwhelmed by emotions that I fear the day
where I would lose control of my own feelings.
So insecure about every little thing that
hopelessness kept building up.
So afraid that I can never find hope in anything
and going after what I have been longing for all these times,
shutting down myself.

So afraid of everything.
I'm losing my mind.