I am a superhero
I save lives
I fill up messages
I write in all the lines
I've done this before
+1 compliment +1 confidence = -1 lack of suicidal fits
this weight on my shoulders
it tearing me to bits.
+1, -2, x3, -82, math in my head tells me what to do
so much more to chew
like a jawbreaker, i never snap in 2
yet people suck me dry
till all i wanna do is die.
The monster is getting stronger.
But the numbers can't pretend to be bones to hold me up,
instead they're ropes helping the monster pull me down.
Haunting voices whispering into my ears that they can't do it anymore,
and they say this every week.
My heart is heavy and my eyelids weak but I still wear a smile..
I say I need a break but these whispers hold onto me like shackles.
My wrists they bleed with all these tugs and whips and these people say they're the ones in pain....
If i ignore them they turn to screams and they make my ears bleed with pity.
My weekly routine. My lullaby to sleep.
and all I can pray is
Please don't die
Please don't die
Please don't die
Please don't die
I lie in the lukewarm rivets of my room.
My blankets tucked under me and my clothes put away.
My curtains are drawn and my lights are all off,
I feel nothing besides the dulling emptiness telling me to let go.
A familiar aching in my heart tells me that i'm being selfish,
and a stinging anger asks me why I let them use me.
And I cannot listen to either without killing off a part of me that hold my structures together..
Like pastel china girls my feet are bound but without these binds I would fall.
