the static speaks my name

they say time heals all wounds, but mine have been rotting ever since

it’s like being colourblind to emotions despite feeling them anyway

hell is not the place you go, it is merely the weight you carry at all times

the thought that my life could have been something so beautiful will haunt me forever

people around me are finding faith and love and I’m finding more reasons why I shouldn’t be here anymore

I see people fall in love with the idea of their lives everyday while I wait for mine to end.

I died long ago while my anguished soul haunts my hollow corpse

I don’t think I ever got better, maybe I just got used to it.

I’m the only one that understands, I have always seen the world differently.

this world is too cruel to be a reality

I no longer need anyone to describe the world to me, I see it so perfectly well for myself.

my mind is infested with thoughts that aren’t mine

today never passes

childhood memories are so difficult to recollect that it feels like I wasn’t the one who lived my childhood

I view this world through a pane of shattered glass, when the screen falls away maybe I’ll begin to live again.

I imagined myself dying so much that it almost feels like a childhood memory

often, I lay on the cold floor to deceive myself into believing I can fall no further than this, but rock bottom will always have a forgotten basement.