I feel sick to my stomach and I can't close my eyes to sleep
I can't get away from this feeling.
You know, some days even when it's too cold to feel my fingers and I don't want to breathe in the cold air,
I still feel like if I just keep going I'll find it. I'll find the better place and I'll keep going and nothing else will matter because I will be okay. That's all I want, to know that if I keep going it will be okay.
But it's 4 in the morning and there are blood stains on my shirt and it hurts to breathe. My eyes are hell from tears, but I still don't see God. I think and think and overthink of ways to slip away from my mind, find a better place. My silly brain tells me that the easiest way to get to the better place is by slicing lines across my veins. I freeze from the bitterness of the blade and my mind is blank.
I see the crimson lines forming and I see the lines from the day before and The day before that
And I see the faint lines underneath from months before. They're painting stories within me and I've been staring at my art gallery for forever. The red shines bright and I see myself spilling out.
My mind is oozing and I cannot think.
I don't know how to speak.
They say art is escaping, maybe this is the better place.