Suicide was not a choice I thought I would ever contemplate
Never thought I would be stuck feeling like it was the only way to escape my self-hate
Or that death was the only way to find freedom from my self-destructive ways
And never thought self-harm would be a way I released my anguish and pain
But this sadness is devouring me-
Struggling silently
Ashamed of the words and memories that make up my history
Afraid to truly face the burdens that weigh on me
The strength of my darkness is hurting me and faking my happiness is draining my energy
Why is being happy so hard, especially when you had a life so rough?
Why won’t my fears, my worries, my dreams and nightmares release me into a state of inner peace?
Instead of leaving me with feelings of short-lived utopia after each self induced injury
And I don’t have anyone but my therapist to help save me
From the beast lurking in my darkness waiting to attack me
But it’s her job to help me and like everyone else she’ll also leave-
Having faith in Gods aren't helping set me free
None of these religions and self-help readings are helping me get to a place of understanding and self-compassion
Nor are they supplying me with helpful methods to truly help end my madness
I'm feeling desperate and alone…
Out here searching for caring hugs and kind words
Just to feel a false sense of love, just to feel something other than anger and grief
Something other than feeling the wrath of my tragedies
I want freedom from this dark entity living within me
It takes advantage of my weakness, picks apart my brain until it turns on me
Deceives me..
I become lost in the confusion of what’s a real thought and what’s not
And I’m afraid my darkness is clouding my judgement
Starting to believe happiness can only be found in my ashes and others fragmented memories of me
My darkness is isolating me from the one thing that can help me break free
It’s tainting my hopes, turning them into weapons to help trick me into believing suicide is the only way out
The only way to save me from my sorrows..
Never thought I would be stuck feeling like it was the only way to escape my self-hate
Or that death was the only way to find freedom from my self-destructive ways
And never thought self-harm would be a way I released my anguish and pain
But this sadness is devouring me-
Struggling silently
Ashamed of the words and memories that make up my history
Afraid to truly face the burdens that weigh on me
The strength of my darkness is hurting me and faking my happiness is draining my energy
Why is being happy so hard, especially when you had a life so rough?
Why won’t my fears, my worries, my dreams and nightmares release me into a state of inner peace?
Instead of leaving me with feelings of short-lived utopia after each self induced injury
And I don’t have anyone but my therapist to help save me
From the beast lurking in my darkness waiting to attack me
But it’s her job to help me and like everyone else she’ll also leave-
Having faith in Gods aren't helping set me free
None of these religions and self-help readings are helping me get to a place of understanding and self-compassion
Nor are they supplying me with helpful methods to truly help end my madness
I'm feeling desperate and alone…
Out here searching for caring hugs and kind words
Just to feel a false sense of love, just to feel something other than anger and grief
Something other than feeling the wrath of my tragedies
I want freedom from this dark entity living within me
It takes advantage of my weakness, picks apart my brain until it turns on me
Deceives me..
I become lost in the confusion of what’s a real thought and what’s not
And I’m afraid my darkness is clouding my judgement
Starting to believe happiness can only be found in my ashes and others fragmented memories of me
My darkness is isolating me from the one thing that can help me break free
It’s tainting my hopes, turning them into weapons to help trick me into believing suicide is the only way out
The only way to save me from my sorrows..