The sweetest nightmare in life is your own thoughts.
Your own nightmares become reality, and you don’t know how to fight anymore.
Things don’t tend to get easy unless you fight for them, but when fighting is all you have ever known.
You think to yourself why would you keep fighting, why bother to keep strong when all the people who want you to live are the ones who don’t even bother to speak to you.
They don’t remember the things you’ve done for them; they also don’t remember why they even cared in the first place.
Love is an endless lie that is supposed to keep us sane.
But the love you wish for is a non-existing pain inside of you wishing for something for someone to notice the pain. The pain that’s bundled up into your soul.
The fight that keeps getting harder and the thoughts keep pushing you down.
So you reach for someone, for anything to keep this struggle, this battle going.
And the worst part of this whole mess is,
You don’t want to fight you want to fall; you want to bathe in your misery, you want to lose. To be fogged by something anything that isn’t this life. So you stick to your daydreams the reality you wish was real. The life you wish you had.
YOU WANT SOMETHING…
But you can’t get the initiative to get out of the chair you’ve been sitting in.
But you can’t you can’t keep doing this. You know that...
Everyone around you is watching you kill yourself.
You wonder why, you just sit there and wonder why.
Why no one can see your pain.. The pain that’s winning.
So you take a pill.
And you relax.
You take another and you feel foggy.
You take a couple more and your body no longer feels your own.
You take the rest, and the blood starts to vomit from your throat.
And you let a tear fall.
Watching yourself die by your own hand.
You watch as you kill yourself.
You watch as you fade into the darkness.
And all you hear is silence.
Silence of the people who have forgotten you, because you’re no longer the person they love.
But the last thing you think to yourself is, the person they all loved was simply a lie.
Something to pass the time by.
Something created to ease the pain. The pain that you love.
So you drift to the land of nothing.
You become nothing but a rotting corpse and drift into the abyss that you’ve wanted.
It’s nothing more than a dream.
You were nothing but a burden, nothing more than a pain for everyone around you.
You are nothing more then bones.