Unlit Hours

Late nights—
they’re the worst for me,
bringing out the worst in me.
Mind racing,
like it hurts to think.
Not a moment of peace—
fighting myself just for a second.

Fighting peace like—
there is no hope.

I wish I could help,
but it’s hard—
when I hate myself.
Can’t stand who I am.
Lately,
the only relief I find
is in causing—

more pain,
more defeat.

These late nights,
they make me feel
like I’m not worth it.
When I get love,
I throw it away—
feeling undeserving.

Cold, alone, I shiver
at the thought
that night is coming.
It knows how to find me.

Dark thoughts consume me—
every night.

I don’t want to die,
I just want relief.
But I can’t have it.

I’m a broken record—
but I let it play.
I’m used to this feeling.
Is this what I was meant to be?
How I was meant to feel?

Every morning, it’s me—
looking through the glass,
waking up in this body—
wanting to throw it away.
I sell myself lies
that things are getting better...

and I still buy them.
But they’re running out of stock.

Knee-deep
in the darkness that I made—
of my own actions.
The night controls me,
makes me feel worthless,
hopeless—
I hate myself.

Like there’s no daylight in sight.