it's been raining inside all week
and i would just go out
if it were that easy
if there was a way to calm myself down

but there is no level of life
that doesn't freak me out right now
if i just keeled over
it wouldn't sound so bad by now

to close my eyes
and cease the days
but people need me
and i'm supposed to fix the things i break

and its ungrateful and ugly
to feel that way
but i'm stretched thin and useless
or it just feels that way

i feel the plastic warping
as it refuses the oxygen to my brain
i feel the sting in my wrists
as the blade dissects my veins

i don't do it
but i still feel it every single day
i think about it constantly
my dreams redirected with pain

the people around me
don't feel the same
pushing kids or god or impossibilities
when we are not the same

and when i leave
i'll be wrong for following myself
but i never really felt like i belonged
with everybody else

its been raining inside all week
and i'd go out if i thought it'd help
but it doesn't and it's worse in a million different ways
what even is mental health

i watch through the peephole
then double check the lock
i know i made you a promise
but i gotta call it off

might just rot on the couch
after everything is gone
and when someone needs something
the house will echo a strangers knock

but thats just wishful thinking
i might just ignore it
but honestly
probably not