how many times do I have to speak?
how many times do I have to scream?
I'm not okay.
I'm not alright.
how many attempts will end my life?
how many words will bring me more strife?
I'm never going to make it.
I'm never going to feel alive.
words I make seem redundant,
it will never be enough and good-for-not.
maybe I was meant to be like this,
maybe I wasn't meant to be cured.
but what if there's something I've missed?
everyone thinks I've been fooled.
I wish I could get out.
I wish I know so I won't doubt.
I want a cure,
I want to be healed.
But maybe I'm just dead inside.
I wish I could feel alive.
- unwritten nightmares