I Don't [Know]

I'm fading out,
My thoughts aren't clear.
If you love me, help.
I'm filled with fear.

I did it once,
I'll do it again.
I 'm screaming in pain,
And don't have a friend.


This was all I wanted,
But now I don't know.
If this is truly the path
I want to go.

Pain... Something I Know Way Too Well

I can feel my heart beating 100 mph. It's the sensation of burning and freezing in high voltage air. I pray every night that it will collapse and I won't have to endure it any longer. I know this all too well, and I couldn't be more scared. And I'm just aching inside to find who I'm suppossed to be. But is it worth it? All of my thoughts have put me into a downfall. This maximum security is fucking with me. This is the point where I'm beyond tears. I've been forced to believe I'm a monster. My paranoia is catching up to me, I can feel their eyes burning holes in my skin. It's maddening the nightmares I have. I'm terrified to go to sleep. And the truth is, more than once, that knife looks more friendly than not. I'm so deep in myself I just want to scream. This fear isn't going away. It's causing me agony. I'm being kept in this cave, left to die all alone. The gaurd has done no good for my life. The warden has me in chains again, but I doubt for the very last time. Sometimes I look in the mirror, but my reflection makes me cringe in disgust. I see an ugly girl with a ragged look and tears streaming down her eyes. As my blood flows through my veins, my body throbs in agony. With my finger, I trace their outlines along my wrist. Pins and needles crawl up my back. The constant feeling of being alone has done damage. Running away is pointless, this isn't a phisical problem. This is mental abuse, leaving mental bruises and scars on my life. These things are the ones people don't tend to get over. They usually bring them to the grave. The traggedy is that they're death was of their own accord by their own hands. But as twisted as that sounds, it's the saving grace of the damned. We've been brainwashed to believe we have nothing to live for. That we'll never be loved for who we are because we're unnatural and failures. I was told once to not listen to what they say, but it's hard not to. It's hard not to start believing you own up to nothing when you're told that daily. Sure, I'll put on a mask as fake as the movies. I'll put on a show so life like, you would never question it. But I'll be miserable the whole time. In situations like these, depression isn't the right word, because clearly I have fooled the world that I'm fine. This is a state of constant mental breakdown. I've led you all to believe I'm a happy free soul once more. Honestly, I'm walking the thin line of insanity and rage. I have nobody at my side. I'm watching as I become mentaly violent towards myself. On the inside there's a riot that makes any civil war look like a slap fight. I'm wearing down, and for the first time in my life, I'm crying out for help. I'm calling for any soul who can save me from murdering my own. I'm reaching out screaming, and I'm crying because no one will come.