Holding my breath,
Holding my breath, Until I feel like my lungs will explode.
I want to give up, but I hold my breath.
Because if I can hold on for one minute longer, it might make a difference.
If I ever get to breath again or not.
I envy the ones I help. I feel for the ones I lost. I look for the ones who are lost. I cry for the ones that give up.
To feel like I'm alone?
No, to think about others instead of what hurts.
You don't actually inhale until you blackout.
Drowning seems better than other ways of death.
But I just can't help but feel that isn't true.
Depression feels like that. Insomnia keeps you like that. Anxiety hurts you like that. Happiness can leave like that.
(Okay, by now, I'm just trying to get everything out of my drafts, so this was rushed)