I hate to admit
That dissociation
Is a friend of mine.

Putting myself on autopilot,
Just so I can survive.

Separating from reality,
Because simply living
Is all I’ve got this time.

I wish you could
See me in the state
That I’m in now

Broken, bruised,
So critical.

It’s absolutely pitiful.

I’m tired of feeling low,
But I keep dragging myself
Down,

Sinking and
Caught in the undertow.

Someone wake
Me from this
Mental charade

Because I’m tired
Of all the games,
And the iron bars that
Keep holding me down.

It’s hard to thrive,
When I can’t figure
Out how to figure
Myself out.

Happy anniversary,
Trauma, guilt and
Doubt.

The past is very
Critical and I
Just want out.

I keep waiting
For an answer, but

I know I’m the only
One who lets myself
Down one more time.

I hate to admit
That dissociation
Is a friend of mine.

And I’m sorry,
If I disconnect
Sometimes.

Please don’t give
Up on me now

I just need someone
To make me feel alive
One last time.

I’ve given myself
A million little reasons
Why  

I don’t deserve
The comfort, but
Not a day goes
By

I wish I was  
In your arms
Again.

I’ve given myself,
A million little reasons

Just to avoid the  
Rising tide

Emotional chemicals,
Mixing, sending my soul  
In overdrive.

Overwhelmed, and  
realized tortured  
Soul,

Hoping my heart
Can learn to love
Amid this lull.  

I’ve given myself,
A million little reasons
Why  

But there’s something
About you that makes
Me want to  

Try.

if you stay in
your own head

the memories,
faded, might

leave you
in dread.

consuming,
just torturing
yourself

simply feeling
hopeless, and
angry instead.

it's not worth
putting yourself
through this

even if life's
a little complicated.

look with your
eyes, not
all hope is lost.

even in the
darkest places,

the light will
shine bright
when you need
it most.

Almost a year later,
I still wish I
hadn't lost my focus.

I let the
Lens focus
on the wrong things,

In the wrong places,
And it’s all just a
mess.

An accidental shutter,
Now the picture's
faded, and

It's hard for me to
discover what life’s
meant to be

When it’s just me

Out in this vast,
dark world,
feeling lonely.

Burning out,
Just like a dying star,

Feeling temporary,
I'm barely
holding on.

Just being alive
doesn’t feel alright.

Feeling out of place
and overexposed,

Just like the
Polaroid on my chest.

Looking at the smiles,
A bittersweet moment,

A moment in which
I hope I don’t regress.

I know it’s hard to progress,

And I know I just need
to convince myself and
trust the process.

I know this won’t
last forever.

Photos capture
moments,
And I must remember

This isn't the end
of my chapter.

The world moves forward,
and moments last forever,
and hurt is only temporary.

When I look at myself
I see someone I’m ashamed to be
I see someone who is not who they wanna be
I see me

I always wanted more for myself,
wanted to be memorable,
but now I barely remember most of my life.
Sometimes, I consider who I am,
study my reflection hard in the mirror
contemplate whether it's really me
and then ask if this is who I want to be.
What a responsibility it is
to carry this human flesh to the end
and to act in favor of this restless, desirous mind
for the entirety of a life.
Most of the time, I hardly register my life and world around me
and thus behave mindlessly,
and now I'm realizing that time is more than a concept
and that age will one day take me by the throat.
I've tried so hard to figure myself out,
but I suppose I should spend less time in my mind
and more time taking up space in this body.

I know we meet
people for a reason
and every time I didn't
think it was the case,
hindsight proved me wrong
ten times out of ten.

But us? I can't seem to accept
you were a stepping stone,
a lesson, a memory etched
in my spirit only meant to
redirect me to another place.

I just don't want what comes next
without you here to share it with me.

Tell me why I can't seem to
come to terms with us being
not only impermanent
but seemingly forgettable.

I cannot bring myself to let go

Self pleasure is the definition of the Devil.
We must strike a happy medium,
for the soul is Christ yet the body is sin.

Life, a battle of what lies within.
I, myself, struggle yet seek holy kin.

Promise me virtue,
tomorrow you’ll forget.
Mold form, for my design is ****!

Edit the author, punish the script.
Fight the altar, praise the stripped.