It’s real and it is here and it will feed off my paranoid mind

It’s bloodshot eyes and pale white face are always watching me sleep at night

I can’t see what’s really there, but I see a veil of my past laced in smoke.

It haunts me like the man staring back at me from the bottom of the river

I’ll give into the poison that is my mind and tell myself that I’ll be just fine if I confide in my own broken self.

Just as long as I keep my third eye shut and never let this voice that fuels these thoughts of what it’d be like to end break through I’ll be okay, but I confess that I dwell on and still love these suicidal fantasies.

I know that I’m not myself anymore

I’ve been beaten down, broken, and torn by what seems like a ghost made of thorns.

The sounds that resonate through my eyes crystallize suicide and tell me that I will never be okay, that no matter what happens I’ll be locked inside this box that’s made of what’s left of my shattered conscience.

This is me watching a mirror reflect my first nightmare. A vibrant glow that radiates from the back of my mind.

Am I dreaming?
This all feels too real to be in my head,
but I’m asleep all the fucking time so,
I honestly can’t tell the difference anymore.

I used to be able to fight for myself, but quickly, I’m losing ground.

Please tell me I’m dreaming…It’s really, really hard to find comfort within hysteria and all I want to do is come to peace with myself.

Maybe I am dreaming, maybe I’m in a coma, still, completely unaware that there’s a fire at the end of this seemingly endless tunnel that will burn every thing bad away…maybe I’m close to the fire…

Maybe for once in my life time I will be relieved of what it takes to keep myself alive….

…for once I will be at peace…

….but for now I will come to an end