jesus *******--
breathe me
inhale me fit my heart in the space between your lungs and your ribcage like it's the apocalypse
(seven hours to live at the end of the world)
press your hand against my neck,metal digging into your skin like knives
i'm sorry about the way i push my fingernails into your wrist
i just want to feel something
break the skin(seven layers and a martyr complex)and tell me what you find
i'm nobody's hero
you can only bear to look at me at night,when darkness covers my face like a shroud
i'm everybody's funeral pyre
you're an ashtray waiting to be dusted off(you never told me you wanted to be cremated)
you inhale and take a step back.choke out a weak i don't wanna die and wait for my fist to connect with your cheek,****** knuckles and a hint of desperation you won't try to stop me--
IT MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR THOSE SUFFERING FROM POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER TO VOCALIZE THEIR STRUGGLES IN A WAY THAT MAKES SENSE--
my mouth is one big bruise,sweat and tears spilling from it like blood from a wound
(the **** on my cheek;you put it there.i helped,or rather,i didn't do anything to stop you.)
THOSE WITH PTSD WILL FREQUENTLY HAVE EPISODES WHERE THEY FEEL THEY ARE RELIVING THE TRAUMATIC EVENT OR EVENTS. THEY MAY NOT RECOGNIZE YOU, BUT IT IS IMPORTANT TO TRY AND HELP THEM THROUGH IT.
you pretend it doesn't break you when i ask who you are(when i tell you through a haze of remembrance that i should've died too)
you don't see the bruises snaking up my arm like tattoos,like they were always meant to be there
i guess someone should have told me that carving *i love you and i'm sorry into a bullet doesn't stop the bleeding
but i love you and i'm sorry
the human heart beats on average 2.5 billion times in a lifetime
mine was only supposed to beat 7.3 million times and i guess that's why i feel so cold all the time
take me out,a lightning bolt to the heart
(a momentary feeling of loss and then silence)
they say you can feel someone in your head after they've died
i guess it's a good thing that we were never connected, wires pretending to be veins
this is a love letter disguised as a suicide note
i know i'm not supposed to say anything but god,i love you
jesus *******--
breathe me.