I find myself constantly on the brink of snapping,
waiting for it all to fall apart,
come crumbling down around me like it has so many times before,
This time I have nothing to look forward to,
no tools or desire to fix it.
Just watching, and waiting.
Then I can drop off the face of the earth,
pretend I never really existed before.
I crave pills, and vodka, a sweet and silent escape,
with no care if my body awakes or not.
I don't have the balls to do anything else.
Not many do.
A slice of the wrist for the crimson red,
just to let some pain flow free,
the sweet release makes my very real heart feel less
on every possible level
and that feels good to me.
a little release so I might feel simply okay
at least for a little while.
These days are dark, and the nights even longer,
no wonder my soul feels crushed.
would it really matter though if the sun was shinning.
feels like a bandaid
a flimsy fix one puts on a deep wound
hoping for the best but left with an obvious scar.
hope. That's all we've got. That's all there is.
That's the realest thing I've got.
not even that feels like enough anymore.
but hey, they say, you can only go up from here, right?