Little Fallen Angel

Why nobody talks about being addicted in your own melancholy, like i wanna get better but it’s so comfortable where i am now, even tho i feel terrible?

Why do i have the feeling of home when i’m devastated?

I am everything between me and getting better, i simply don’t choose myself, why?

Fuck drugs pap talks, is so much easier to fall into addiction with your own bad habits, the drugs just came later when you’re desperate to run from your own head.

The same thoughts that i talk are the ones who are too familiar to get away.

I breathe once

Twice

My body is shaking

Sweat drips down my palms

I close my eyes

Concentrate into my respiration

I breathe once

Twice

Exhale

“I will not break”

That’s what i keep repeting

The affirmation is said with shaky voice

I convince myself that it is conforting

But it is what i need to be truth

I need to survive

I need to not break

The reason i’m still trying to figure it out

While i keep picking the shads that feel apart from me

The ones i try to glue but don’t seem to fit

I breathe once

Twice

Things feel more peaceful when i open my eyes

I lay down on my bed when my head feels like exploding

My pillow is wet

I realise my tears were the cause of it

I feel wrong

Like everything is wrong

And all i want to do is dissappear so i don’t have to deal with any of it

But i don’t

Even when i shrug out of despair and beg to god take me from this awful world

I breathe once

Twice

Taking the air to my lungs never seemed so hard

Until the water from my tears tried to drown me in my dismay

Or maybe i’m just moving on?