This gaping hole you've caused, Did you know it won't close?
Pretending is a task. Artwork constantly being carved onto my skin, And I'm drowning from within. I can no longer live in this illusion of pretense.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Lies. Lies. Lies.
What doesn't kill you leaves you broken for the dead. Choking gurgling and gasping for breath,
To null and void you'll be immersed, With hands outstretched in pitiful despair Hallucinating for the light at the end.
Until you seek out of your own head. Save me perhaps?
Water shall corrode those lungs, The human case shall break and bend.
Shoved and pulled, dragged and tugged, Blood will be burnt.
And countless shall seek repentance, Demise, however awaits it's grand entrance.
I don't want to do this by myself. You can't leave me(?) Not when I'm afraid, Not when it stings - not when it cuts like this.
* *This was a bit of a challenge to write seeing as I struggle to be open with myself and others in general; (whoops working on it, bear with me) But emotional growth isn't always comfortable and at some point you gotta stop drowning and start swimming or at least doggy paddle? - Thea **