What is in my head is hurting, is aching.
You don't know what they do to me.
And you just hope for me to stay submerged.
In this ocean, of fear, darkness, and insomnia.
"Kill. Yourself. Death. Die. Dying."
They whisper.
And I have no way to escape.
I once assumed death is my way out.
Of this trap I am consumed by.
If I could find the way to break free
I will never be coming back here.
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the truth about freedom
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The entire year has been playing on repeat. I couldn't tell you who the fuck I am.
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