All my years I’ve been preparing to die,
and now they’re forcing me to stay alive
Claiming they can heal my wounded soul
by shocking my brain causing more trauma
How do you go back
from being buried?
How do you find peace
when you know what’s awaiting you?
How do you love
when your heart has stopped?
How do you remember
when you’ve lost your mind?
How do you cry
when you don’t have tears?
How do you overcome your past
if it’s still your present?
What do people do with their lives
if their whole being didn’t yearn for its doom?
How do I start?
Where do I begin?
This is the first day of my life
where I’m not suicidal, and
I don’t know what there is to do
when death was my only salvation
I don’t know this new version of me;
the one who doesn’t find it impossible
to stay for another day,
another endless night
I’m scared of shifting back
I’m scared of being buried
by my own deadly psyche
I’m scared of dying again
Things are more lighter and clearer now
The elephant in the room is no
longer perched upon my chest,
and my wrists are no longer
bleeding only the scars remains
What if I get hungry again and can’t
find anything to feed on, but my own blood?
What if I woke up in a casket again?
I can’t help but wonder
for how long is this going to last?
How long am I going to last?
I hope this lasts,
I can hope like others do!
I’m hoping again
which is a sign of life!
Am I deluding myself?
Am I better or worse?
I need someone to squeeze my hand
just so I know that this is real
It’s dangerous when you’re stuck
in a state where nothing feels real
No matter how deep
you went to draw blood,
you still don’t feel like you’re here
In my head I’ve already
killed myself, long ago,
and now my corpse is
somehow trying to breathe again?
This goes against logic
This goes against my own head
My head is going against
its own suicidal thoughts
Am I going to look back at this,
and not believe that one day
One day I felt alive enough to breathe,
and not wish I wasn't
A burst of emotions I felt a month ago, but I’m buried by my own deadly psyche once again. I wish those feelings lasted for longer. Perhaps I was manic during that time. I just wish I wasn’t so suicidal. I’ve completely given up.