Mar 2016
I live, but struggle to breathe.
I fight an endless losing battle.
The outcome will always be the same.
Death will take us all away.
In the end, nothing really matters.
Memories become void.
Emotionless emotions become the normality of an existence that is so lost and broken. Its all one big facade. Shaken from the past, too afraid to fly. Too afraid to live, too scared to die. Stuck in shades of grey. There is no left or right, black or white. It's a constant moving force of one foot in front of the other. Holding tears back, in fear of ruining the make up on my eyes that you never let me wear in the first place. It's struggling and fighting against yourself to not pick up that knife. Slice. Slice. Slice. It's a song on repeat in the back of my mind. Cryptic words and mind ***** only lead to future cuts and blood. That's how I allow myself to feel. For the tears to be able to flood. The panic sets in, once again. For the sake of everyone else, never minding what's good for me. For the sake of everyone else's sanity. And I hide and play my part like the good daughter, like the good family member that never gets spoken to. Like the good person I pretend to be. But all the hate I have is always directed toward me. I hate every single one of you *****. I don't want your ******* love. I want you to leave me alone. I don't want compassion or pitty or pleasantries. I'm used to getting ***** in my ******* dreams. Don't be nice to me. Feed my soul With what it deserves; hurt, make me ******* scream. I scream inside every day. I claw myself from the inside out, beating and breaking my rib cage to stop my heart from constantly pounding in my ears. My eyelids are heavy now, because I guess you should know I'm an addict too. Anything to surpress the void, or the feeling, or anything at all. Anything to stop everything. This numb feeling is what I need to get by. This numb feeling is my best friend in life. This numb ******* feeling actually makes me feel alive. All I really am is dead inside. Which actually poses a question to all my conquests; what was it like to **** a corpse?
I fight an endless losing battle.
The outcome will always be the same.
Death will take us all away.
In the end, nothing really matters.
Memories become void.
Emotionless emotions become the normality of an existence that is so lost and broken. Its all one big facade. Shaken from the past, too afraid to fly. Too afraid to live, too scared to die. Stuck in shades of grey. There is no left or right, black or white. It's a constant moving force of one foot in front of the other. Holding tears back, in fear of ruining the make up on my eyes that you never let me wear in the first place. It's struggling and fighting against yourself to not pick up that knife. Slice. Slice. Slice. It's a song on repeat in the back of my mind. Cryptic words and mind ***** only lead to future cuts and blood. That's how I allow myself to feel. For the tears to be able to flood. The panic sets in, once again. For the sake of everyone else, never minding what's good for me. For the sake of everyone else's sanity. And I hide and play my part like the good daughter, like the good family member that never gets spoken to. Like the good person I pretend to be. But all the hate I have is always directed toward me. I hate every single one of you *****. I don't want your ******* love. I want you to leave me alone. I don't want compassion or pitty or pleasantries. I'm used to getting ***** in my ******* dreams. Don't be nice to me. Feed my soul With what it deserves; hurt, make me ******* scream. I scream inside every day. I claw myself from the inside out, beating and breaking my rib cage to stop my heart from constantly pounding in my ears. My eyelids are heavy now, because I guess you should know I'm an addict too. Anything to surpress the void, or the feeling, or anything at all. Anything to stop everything. This numb feeling is what I need to get by. This numb feeling is my best friend in life. This numb ******* feeling actually makes me feel alive. All I really am is dead inside. Which actually poses a question to all my conquests; what was it like to **** a corpse?
