how can anyone truly comprehend the horrors of the deepest dark forgotten crevices of my brain? can they ever really know what i mean when i say my regrets are so painful i don't know how to live anymore? everyday seems like a broken film that's rewiring on repeat. i close my eyes and i can only ever remember how fast my youth flew past my eyes that i sometimes obsessively replay in my head because who knows if one day my depression gets so bad i might not remember what true happiness was. my laughter was a lot more high pitch because it was genuine. the love for everyone around me made me glow because i thought it was genuine. even my smiles were genuine.
now i force to at least make people think that i'm not at the edge of life. feeling soulless is worse than feeling suicidal. what's worse than sitting around in your room alone because your trust is beyond abused. i still want to be here and exist but it hurts and gnaws away at my skin when i try to sleep at night. whats worse than becoming mirrors of people because you can't ever seem to feel safe again with anyone to be your genuine self. what's like keeping your soul in a cage, locked away with no key?
YOU ARE READING
they come, they go
Randomi write to alleviate my mind of overwhelming thoughts that choke me at night.