Good night discontentment for the bitter truth of it all.
I think about my desire to end my life more than 7 times a day, every day.
I’m still here, that’s what “being okay” means.
Sometimes I’m happy.
Sometimes I starve myself and walk 9 miles.
I can’t function correctly, emotionally, without my lover. They are dead and I dream about Resurrecting them from their grave only for them to tell me they’d rather be dead than deal with my bullshit.
Sometimes I wish my tumor would kill me already.
I hate the head aches and the vomiting every day.
It’s what I get for never being good enough for anyone.
………………whatever. Carry on, right?
Someday I’ll get my chance.
The greatest escape from this cage you’ve put me into.
I may don’t have wings,
But only the hopeless says that it’s impossible to fly.
Out, I spread my wings as I reach my dreams.
You can no longer lure me to your golden bars.