A hollow grave
A grave waiting to be filled with my past remains
The past I try to push out before it fills me with pain
But no matter how hard I push to get up with a smile
It’s like the devil on my shoulder weights a ton and likes violence
He pushes me down and screams that I’ll be here forever
No happiness, no fear just a puppet. His personal jester.
My pains the source of his happiness, his joy and pleasure
Pain is his drug, but I’m not the only mind he devours.

I’ve been trying for years to conquer my fears
And push away the things that have brought me to tears
But it’s not easy overcoming the things that brought you here
The past makes you who you are
That’s why it’s so hard not to over think who I once was
The things I once did, the pain I once caused
The people I was with and the times that I have ****** up

Unlike others I don’t enjoy pushing away the pain that’s a bother
I try to sit here and think “what’s the real problem”
If its people in my life then ill push them and shove them
But most of the time I’m the real problem
I have yet to find a way to deal with that pain
Knowing I’m the reason I feel this way
But for now I’ll sit here and drink my sorrows away
“The message is in the bottle”
But how many bottles do I have to go through before it comes to me