And I could feel nothing,
Just my wrists.
The crimson in the slits.
The breathing when it hits.

Screaming at the top of my lungs
when I finally come undone.
It all feels the same
when I don't feel safe.

But the truth in the night,
thats something I can't get past.
Feeling is a fright
When I only have one choice.

that’s how I remember my breakdown
how I remember those nights I let go
after creating a perfect scene
just to let it go.

Then waking up on the floor,
broken like my door
forgotten
and unsure

was it really right to resort to that?
after all the progress I made
I showed a lack
I displayed a new shade.

and that was black.

I marched a crusade
a treacherous journey
across everyone’s façade
I disregarded my body’s warning

I failed
a new level of incompetence
that they can gloat about
I feel nailed.