everything changes (but we all stay the same)

voices

my heart is pounding in my ears

my heart is full of needles

my personality is gone

i am an empty shell

i am full of swirling emotions and grey clouds

my sinuses are pounding in my head

words whisper through my brain and trickle out of my ears

you are worthless

you can do it, lovely

you are going insane

go to sleep, darling

you should just kill yourself

you are precious

they whisper,
so gentle,
both like lullabies.

one lulls me into a trance-like state of emptiness.
i feel cold.
i can't feel my extremities.
he is comfort.

the other pushes me to be gentle with myself.
i feel warm.
i tingle with energy.
he is vivacity.

they are both me,
they protect me,
they are my friends.

they feel like my only friends, sometimes.

am i going crazy?
am i going crazy?
am i going crazy?
am i going crazy?
am i going crazy?
AM I GOING CRAZY?

... am i?

i still think about you,
you always sit in the back of my mind.

my imaginations make you
tell me mean things,
things that i just know
that you must think about me.

how i am talentless,
how i am worthless,
how i am disgusting,
how i am hideous,
how i am a stalker.
how i should cut myself more,
how i should take those pills,
how i should just run away.

your image never goes away,
and it hurts so much.

you must hate me now,
i know you hate me now.

i tried to move on,
but you wouldn't leave my mind,
just always sitting in the back of my consciousness,
taunting me with your imaginary words.

i don't even know who's fault it is anymore.
i'm afraid it might be mine, after all.

maybe i am just going
crazy.

-

i am eighteen now.

i should be getting better,
but nothing is getting better.

my thoughts aren't making sense anymore,
it's always just so jumbled,
and it scares me so much.

it's okay, babyboy.
slow down and take your time.
it will eventually get better.
just focus on here and now.
take it one step at a time.

why not just kill yourself now?
it would spare you the suffering.
you know very well
that it will never get better.
see that full pill bottle?
you should take it all.
take all of your pills,
everything in the drug cabinet,
everything in the liquor cabinet,
everything under the sink.
do it.
do it.
do it.

these voices, they whisper in my head,
at every waking moment.

the image of your whisper, also,
haunts my waking hours.

and for some reason,
it is always the whispers of your memory
that hurt me the most.

you hurt me,
you hurt me,
you hurt me!

you ruined me,
everything that i once was,
and i am nothing without you

why don't you love me?
what did i do?

please come over again,
just one last time,
so you can end my pitiful life
with your lovely hands,
for i would only wish for those hands
to be the ones to see my demise.

blue lemonade;
medicine;
pain.

everything is the same.

nothing phases me anymore,
nothing makes me happy anymore,
just fleeting moments of manic-fueled fire
that make me think i'm okay,
just for a moment.

but then night falls,
and i remember that i am,
truly,

a worthless excuse for a person.