Too exhausted for life,
But too fearful to die,
All my thoughts are a strife,
I'm to frightened to try
To somehow fix my life...

Every morning I fall out of sleep...
And then nothing. No wishes, no goals,
No emotions, just strong urge to weep
All the stresses have taken their tolls.

I'm a robot. I'm broken. No power.
Every chore feels like greatest of feats.
Climbing steps? More like climbing a tower
Of ten thousand floors. And each day it repeats.

I could use metaphors, I could say something dumb,
Like "I feel I'm an onion who loves the self-harm".
But I don't feel the pain, all my feelings are numb,
and I don't have an itch of the weins on my arm.

I just want to have feelings,
to bring back bright emotions.
But for now I'm not healing,
I'm just swallowing potions...