Some days it's really hard to exist.
Wake up, turn on the figurative light
Blurring colors with awakened eyesight
As my reoccurring thoughts resurface,
You won't be here for the holidays.
**** my father, I'm not him, I am.
My hair looks a mess, get dressed.
"You've got this" I think to a mirror image.
Hand to the glass like art not finished.
My self-esteem feels diminished.
Listen to an instrumental to gently let the words flow
Out of a skull that's crying too deep
Anymore I've just been straight faced, lost,
My life has a price, tell me the cost please.
What's the number they wrote on my head
I need to know if it's more alive or dead.
Let's let it spill tonight, let's really tell them.
I'm not doing ok, the cuts on my arm
Are not representation of any self harm
But a child I feel I'm failing, I'm failing.
I had a dream that I sunk in too deep,
Felt a push and that sprouted to a leave.
Screaming names like any can be worse
Than the ones I already call me.
I'm still afraid I'll suffocate, not metophoricaly
My lower back is still killing me
But I don't tell because it's just not worth it
Go back to work, the only thing making me not worthless.
I wish my words held any worth at all
To anyone reading, don't fall.
