I'm just so sick of looking in the mirror every morning I wake up, just to see someone I hate in my own reflection,
I struggle to take care of myself, I don't have the motivation to even get dressed just to face the day's rejection.
I wish I could just fight back, but I always give in and the routine is beginning to get to me to the point it's a self destructive habit,
Where's the reason everyone tells me about to look at the bright side when the only comfort I've ever felt was in my own casket.
I hear when you tell me there's a way to walk with my head high, but there's another voice telling me not to bother because it's a waste of time
And the voice has been by my side for years, ever since I was a kid it's been my only friend, and it is what's killing me, and that's why I rhyme.
It's the only way for me to cough up the courage to speak out about how harmful I am to myself and how much I need to get help, but I'll always be scared,
I don't want people to view me as a weakling who can't even walk outside for fear of hearing the words about me, I may act strong but I'm truly impaired.
I know I just write the same thing everytime I sit down and I can never change the topic, it's all I've ever known and I'm sorry,
If it feels like I'm burning up both of our time and I'm sorry if it feels like I've pushed you away because I hate when you worry.
If these words ever strike you as alarming, don't fret because I'm too much of a coward to even come close to ending my life anymore than I've ever had,
But again I've been killing myself over the years by picking up alcohol, drinking away the feeling so I wouldn't remember it in the morning, and it makes me mad.
It makes me mad that I have to resort to destroying my own body just to forget the moment and to pretend that I'm happy when it's just the drugs talking,
Some days I'm not even sure if it's my choice to wake up and start the day off or if it's just my hangover telling me that I can make it today. as long as the pills keep popping.
I'm fortunate to not be dead, but at the same time I can say the opposite, because I'd be fortunate to be dead, but yet again I'm already in that situation so what do I know,
All I know is that I'm not living to be who I am and I'm just living by this disease's intentions, and all I can hope is that one day that I find the medication to help myself glow.
To show the good I have behind this ******* I push myself to be to just try and feel something other than empty, even if it means a rage that makes me hate myself even more,
So which is the lesser evil between the two, being a terrible friend who can't even bring himself to talk to you, or be a terrible friend who can't control himself and slams the door.