I can’t take this feeling, can you? It holds me in my sleep, close. And doesn’t let me go. But the embrace is not warm. And I am still alone.
When my eyes start to shut, it will hold them open.
When I want to walk, it trips me up, tangles my legs so I can’t even walk.
It sits on my shoulders and weighs me down.
It sits on my chest and stops me from breathing, careful to not disturb the pulse. It wants me hurt, but still alive.
Dealing with it is like screaming at air. Pointless.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s even there.
But the doctors tell me so. Forcing prescription pills down my throat
“But don’t be so sad, it’s all in your head, and drugs are no good, you can only help yourself”