Being used never made me feel so tortured.
If only my life had some order.
But I’m locked in this nightmare of a life, and my dreams are no different.
At least in my dreams I can wake up and tell myself that it wasn’t real.
But everything in this life got stolen.
If only I had it in me to be golden.
But I’m a mistake.
This life is a never ending charade.
And I’m always too weak to play.
But I don’t want to treat life like a game.
And somehow it just gets worse by the day.
The voices never really leave.
It’s taking its toll and I don’t want to stay.
But it’s clear to me that every interaction towards me is filled with hate.
So as I try to live a life that doesn’t feel like a layer of hell, I’ll try not to dwell too much and be more than just a shell.