If only my reflection was a tangible thing,
I'd stop feeling this painful sting,
In my knuckles from punching the mirror again,
But it doesn't have quite the right satisfaction,
As flesh and bone,
Obviously my own,
Now I could just scratch myself,
Make myself have to bleed,
But I really just kinda wanna,
Punch myself in the ******* face,

I need to teach myself a lesson,
Maybe beat out a nice confession,
Because I've got some secrets bottled up,
And their eating me alive, I've had enough,
So maybe if I could just give myself a fat lip,
I could enjoy life for just a bit,

I never let myself be happy,
But if someone could draw me a map,
Show me a place where I can be me,
Instead of hiding in a shell of who I pretend to be,
Because putting on a mask is kind of a habit,
One I need to stop, maybe some violence would solve it?
I've been sad for so long,
Even the meds have worn off,
And my psychologist told me she needs a break,
Cause I won't open up, and stop being fake,

I need to teach myself a lesson,
Maybe beat out a nice confession,
Because I've got some secrets bottled up,
And their eating me alive, I've had enough,
So maybe if I could just give myself a fat lip,
I could enjoy life for just a bit.

I'm fighting a war inside my head again,
I don't know why it's always life or death inside my brain,
There's no gray areas in my gray matter,
Only black and white, with zero color,
It gets bleak in there, and darker by the day,
I'm slowly going more than more insane,
I thought I hit my lowest point long ago,
But I feel like I'll be there again, before I know,
And I try to drop hints, but you seem to leave them in the cold,
But I get it, I'm the best masker or so I've been told,
So unless I just come right out and tell you my feelings,
You'll go on thinking I'm okay, without a hint of how I'm reeling,
Off balance on the inside, stumbling around underground,
Cause in my head I'll never be out of that basement with it's sounds,
I'm just always going to be stuck in my childhood trauma,
A head-case without a warning label, just asking for her Mama,

But no one can fix this for my inner child,
She's stuck in her cage, just in the corner trying to hide,
Because someone hurt us too much to ever really be okay,
So until the day I die, by my own hand or God's, I'll fake,
Fake happiness, fake living, I'm a zombie without a patient zero tag,
Just another millennial on too many meds, wishing to be fixed with everything they have,

And yeah, I'm like alphabet soup, BPD, PTSD, OCD,
Bipolar, alcoholic and addict maybe, and a few other things,
Genetics and circumstance ******* me over without asking,
And now I'm stuck in my head every day wondering if I'm living,
Another day in this forsaken world, or should I just slit my wrists,
Find something to overdose on, or maybe just take a risk,
Cause sometimes when I feed my impulsive beast,
The voices shut up for just a beat,
And yeah, that's bitten me before, but not that bad,
So I haven't learned my lesson, not quite yet,
I just wanna drink myself to forgetting,
That I even wrote something so full of feeling,
Smoke a J, and not remember all my problems in the morning,
Because I'm tired, so tired of remembering,
Carpet stains and moans of pleasure,
Wash my hands over and over,
And maybe one day it'll all be done,
But until that day, I'll be on the run,

But no one can fix this for my inner child,
She's stuck in her cage, just in the corner trying to hide,
Because someone hurt us too much to ever really be okay,
So until the day I die, by my own hand or God's, I'll fake,
Fake happiness, fake living, I'm a zombie without a patient zero tag,
Just another millennial on too many meds, wishing to be fixed with everything they have.

Though I see well enough
Lucidity escapes me
Left withering and splintering
In the face of change
In spite of the ending
Something writhes inside of me
A solitary heave
Railing against eternity

But I still cling
To the bits of shade

Every death is unique
As detailed as a fingerprint
I'm still not sure how to communicate
This intrusive thought, it never goes away

Please...
I need is to die knowing
That it wasn't all for nothing
That I gave this life for something

Maybe I've been too detached
Maybe I've been contradicting
Falling fast from what I'm needing
In hopes of finding something real

So outside the mind, enhanced
I see visions of my self
Inside my skull I sit and wait, pondering
If I'm even alive, as eternity
Stretches out before me, but
Nothing scratches that itch
Waiting for a fabrication to take me in
In the days to come...

I'll still cling
To the bits of shade

Cut myself open
For you
I bleed until
I am a dot
Black and dull
I chose to be seen
They said I am null
I went insane
I will die in vain
Skip the memory lane
Until I obtain
My senses and rot
Like the roots of
Dead plants.

I am still alive
and that is all I know
about life and the
pursuit of living.
There is no meaning;
afterall.
We are all floating
into space.
I am in one of these
lavender fields
scratching my itches.
I would love to be
tranquilized, for eternity
if not then I do not want
eternity.
The hardest element I have
conquered in life is that
I have always been
fighting the living scrabble
out of myself each minute
to figure out the
ground.
And the dust I was made of- stardust.
The imperialistic house
should be burned
but I would rather
stay here
coated in substances.
More harm, less feel.
Hell is watching the people
you love; suffer.

"Billie Jean is not my lover."
But she tells me differently
In private.
Now, however, there's a baby
Carrying her impulsive libido
Inside of it.

A matryoshka of folly
Long nights of Texas ***** and blow
Multiple partners, that's fine, just tell me!
But please let your other suitors know
That you aren't the only one
Carrying their load.

My heart sunk, believe me,
When I drove over to your house.
And it pained me to see
Your face, for the first time,
Unable to make an expression.

One, two, three vicodin
Four, five, six at a time
Seven concluded your session.

I found you wandering the eerily-still
Streets,
Even though it was a beautiful afternoon.
I love you so much, but please...
Don't die.  I'm not in the mood.

it is difficult
to live at the mercy of life
swinging mood to mood
craving some stability
to maybe make things alright.