sometimes I forget to breathe
other times, I don't want to
I'm sick and tired of struggling
it's a never-ending option
funny, isn't it?
people claim to care about you and how you're doing but who really asks?
good intentions are hard to find

nobody could ever truly understand my mind

I cry myself to sleep at night
and show up to work the next day like I'm alive,
mysterious or just well hidden?
I ask myself that every day

constantly struggling between dreams and reality
drained of this mentality
forced to be part of the unknown
....

strong enough not to stream tears down my face yet weak enough to feel emotions like lightning
on the inside, I'm slightly dying
I won't go down without a fight