I’m good at shooting pain
So burn me alive like the sun
My fate is inked in a darkness
I’ll never be able to outrun

Here lately I haven’t been writing
And I’ve been staying in my room
Human interaction is a struggle
So I put on my best costume

It comes with a fake smile
And covers the dark circles around my eyes
I’ve become a master of the art
Of hiding my own demise

My therapist tells me I’ll get better
That I just need to give it time
But nobody understands the torture
Of being trapped inside my mind

My mental health is in shambles,
My anxiety always on edge
I’m finding it harder and harder
Just to get up out of bed

My brain is meticulous
With every thought I think
It feels like I’ve tied a brick to my ankle
And all I can do is sink

The chains that have bound me
Are tightening their grip
I wonder how much time is left
Until I lose myself to the abyss

Maddening that it makes you feel pure
the security of your damp, decrepit sanctuary
and your empty, stomach churning words.
A pathetic refuge for you and your damage.
I’d set fire to your home
if I thought it would phase you.
I’d run sandpaper across your tongue
if you wouldn’t revel in the pain.
Unsettling how it doesn’t feel the same now
when you pull my hair
or the pace of your pulse.
A growing distance that you crave.
I’d banish you to the cosmos
if they wouldn’t bring you peace.
I’d gouge out your adoring eyes
if you wouldn’t turn them into art.

Cracks
Like spiderwebs
Filters
Really
Of what we allow ourselves to see
Living inside the bowl
Pretending to be free
I stare at this one way screen
Wondering if you’re watching me
Building webs
Diligently