Psychosis

I can't feel anything.
Just razor blades inside.
They cut at me.
And I can't push them away or put them down.

Blowing holes, like bullets through organs.
And the voices in my head won't disappear.

I am suffocating on my own heart.

And I stop myself from letting myself go.
Out.

How do we find a way to save ourselves...
When we can't ask for help?

Shell

I really lost my heart.
And this time I can't find it.
I call for it,
I look for it.
It is nowhere.
All that leads me, is my mind.
All I hear is my mind,
So I listen.

It could be up to me to change.
But instead, I sit here waiting..
Because it always feels like there is something that is going to happen.
Something, an awakening, anything.
Nothing ever happens. And the waiting will not. ever. stop.
Right?

So do I force myself up out the door and try to find sanity
within the crowds and routine lived by others?
Creating the same thing for myself...?

I am looking for my heart,
because I have blocked off everything I can feel.

And I can't feel.
So, I don't know
What I care about.

I try to dig that knife into my skin,
Into my wrists.
Just so that I can feel SOMETHING.

And I wake up to examine the marks I left.
I need to know that I am real. I need to feel it.
But instead.
I am just dead.
I am just...empty.

Just a shell.

Self-Murder

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.

Surface

For some reason, I think as death as an escape.
Sometimes I want to do it, to myself.

I can't handle this pain that I feel.

Every day. It never ends.
And every time it ends, it always finds a way back.

Maybe if I were over, all this pain that's apart of me would be over too.

If you could give me one reason to live, one word to inspire me, one person to love me and not leave.

If you could just give me help, an answer, a hand.

Maybe you could help me to believe that if my life ends I'd be crying for a way back.

Being at the bottom of the sea is the lowest I could possibly get.
And still, I don't see the surface when I look up.