see what you're finding // 6th spam

write songs in the light, sing them in the dark

i feel dead. and sick. and my head hurts. and the floor is spinning. the walls are ripping out of their places. my legs work against me. my knees are breaking. and my ankles are breaking. and my lip is hanging. and my scars are burning. and hurting. and my heartbeat grows faster by nanosecond. and my nose is runny. and my fingers are dirtied. and i can't breathe. and i'm hungry. and i'm thirsty. my throat is dry. my eyes are dry. but i could cry. and my brain hurts. i've been thinking too much. and i miss his voice. and sounds are muffling. and hands are concerned. scared. they're telling me to go home. but i mustn't. i have an exam. and school in general. and i must stay here. and i must suffer. and i mustn't touch my scars. and i must be forced to be embarrassed of my religion. and i must cry at the sad. and i must cry at the happy. the encouraging. because that counts as sad. today i am ugly. in every form of the word. forgetting. sinning. thinking. failing. ignoring. it's rude. it's emotionless. because it's too emotional. wishing is a sin now. confusion is a sin. indecisiveness is a sin. thoughtlessness is a sin. a lack of will. and interest. only a single piece of productivity. a suicidal poem. a suicidal poet. a pained soul. screaming from the inside. begging for help. but help is a sin now. i am a sin now.