Dying with Expression

These feelings coming over me, Feels like I can’t hold it, I hold my breath each day hoping that I can slow it, I never had this in myself, Thought it was a phase, Thought this living cell, Was nothin but a bad a raise, These lips moving faster, Actions getting harder, This life for me is just a quest, Nothing I can’t conquer. My emotions getting drowned, by my illness, it’s slowly killing me, I try not to harm myself, but instead fcuking blinded me.

I try to contain myself but instead it gets worse, I dig myself deeper, I’m just a fucking bad curse. I tell myself just calm, but instead my blood fucking boils, it hits the point where I’m numb, and nothing is fucking stoping me. But little did you you know, I’m stronger than what you think. Not only will I overcome you but I will get in your fucking head.

I’m ripping my head apart for those who want to listen, everything is a blur, nothing but a fucking vision. You say it’s all a joke, but yet I have to live like this, you calling my life a joke, yeah fuck you and your living. At the age of just 12 I went through depression, not your average up bringing and yet it was a message. To get on your feet and live like you would want to, nothing can’t hurt you, you are an image. A part of this oinsane world, a world that cannot stop you. You are a vision, a classification of faith, an object of this world. So Calm yourself and let it all be still, don’t think about the future, think about what’s real. Saying goodbye won’t help you, but standing up and taking it on, will make you a survivor. You are you and monsters can’t change that, nothing can’t change that and that’s beyond compare.

They get in my head and twist my mind apart, they are little voices that I wish could they could depart. I’m not crazy, I’m not dumb, I’m just living with all these demons, they silent when I want help and are loud when I need freedom, because sadly they know me better than anyone else, they know me better than I even know myself. I say black and they say white, I say no and they just laugh. They play games with my head better than any child I’ve know. It was once such a fashion to be as crazy as me, but that’s all grown out and I’m left here in the breeze. Wondering what went wrong, how I ended up here, how my life’s a mess and somehow I don’t tear. I tear at my arguments and my life’s stupid mistakes, although my mental crazy illnesses are the only stable thing in my life.