I **** myself every time you die
And I keep finding demons in my dreams and hearing whispers right before I wake up

I don't think we should ever be alone, we need someone, something to feel and see

I can't whisper my thoughts to the wind cause it's never around long enough and if it is, I just shiver getting choked on my own words and never even get a sense of relief I was looking to find and feel...

Relief...
Release...
Complete...

Were never complete and if we are they we're repenting the thought that this will last forever
Angels can't hold our hands and I've never heard one in my mind tell me that I have purpose, that I should stay, that I should put that gun away...

It just too easy to blame ourselves for all the bad details
Waking up to bloodshot eyes or not even sleeping at all or maybe we didn't wake up, maybe I died on that 2 AM drive passing exit 85, yelling at the top of my lungs; at myself cause, I didn't want to fully understand what I lost that night in November or that I didn't want to live, maybe I still don't understand because I don't know how to deal with grief and get closure...

I just want to feel alive for one night, and not hate myself for one day