Here I was, in my lowest point.
Already broken, hurt and destroyed.
I try to fight back the urge that I feel,
To break all the glass that I see,
And paint it in red as I bleed.
I’m trying my best, to keep it together,
To not break again and let the demons enter.
I pinned my hope, on your little head,
Trying to stay here, till my merry end…
Nowhere to go, as my screams echo…
I sit here, in front of a mirror,
Thinking out loud, writing a letter.
Do you know what I see?
Apart from living flesh?
A useless image, with lots of regrets…
I waited for something, for words that can heal,
For that stupid phrase that you believe.
“It will get better, you just got to push through.”
Though now I realize, I disappointed you.
The small things, they matter,
The details to the painting, they make it better.
I wonder how brave, I will become…
Will I say goodbye when I’m done?
Will my words ever reach your ears?
Or will this just end with more tears…?