I am dead, in silence I fear

Eye's pierced in static ringing,

"I am crazy, I am smaller than life",

blood pumping, the world is empty,

my existence, no longer significant,

It doesn't matter who I am, for the memory,

of who I used to be, haunts me,

my mind the master, my soul the imprisoner,

a hell made especially for me, as I,

both instigator and pacifist,

maybe I deserve it, maybe I'll learn something,

My love speaks for assurance, begging for me to snap out,

the voices are too persuasive,

the damn voices that make my shadow tremble,

"You're not good enough"

Ringing over and over again

"He will leave you"

I feel empty, I feel dead,

"He will find someone better"

I am slowly killing myself,

The torture only exceeds to a point where,

it must end, harmful visions assume power,

"Hurt yourself",

"You're good for nothing, do it!",

cold isolation becomes terror and wrath,

I see the scars, the depression,

the self hatred and my suffering,

laid out on my body,

as if it were my own personal reminder.