I don't think I consider myself
Human.
Or maybe, Since I am so horrible
A monster.
That's exactly what I am.
A beast of my own shadows,
They lurk.
Each day seems just like a facade
Imaginary to the finest detail.
It's like everytime I breathe...
I can't seem to let it release.
Like each time I inhale it just adds pressure,
To whatever is inside of me.
I can't cut it out.
Each scar can open and scream.
I want to bleed. I want the adrenaline.
A slice to my delicate throat.
The swift kiss of silver,
And the sweet after taste of gold.
My life on the line, my pulse gushing.
Ready to explode.
I hold my mouth shut.
Because it won't stop. And that's okay
I am okay.
I opened my throat to breathe
I opened my throat to scream
I opened my wrists to feel
To know
I am not imaginary
I am real
What I feel is what I deserve to feel
To suffer
Or ....Just maybe...