i feel so cold,
but my skin is clammy.
my muscles are jerking
and my eyes won't stay closed
and noises claw their way up my throat.
i daydream of razors and knives,
safety pins and lighters.
i am a tempest.
i am going insane.
i am going insane.
this is just a documentary.
eventually, this story will come to an end.
eventually, my story will come to an end.
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
dumb baby
why do i try?
why do i do anything?
i like it when i don't do anything.
i like it when i stay inside.
i like it when i drive myself insane.
mommy, am i special?
daddy, do you care about me?
i am a tempest.
does anybody really care about me?
or do they just care about my company?
or do they just care about what i can give them?
does anybody care?
do i care?
usually i only feel this way at night
usually the mania and voices and shadows only show up when the sun sets
but the sun is shining so bright
and the demons are still out to get me.
but i'm just a dumb baby wearing an adult's skin.
but i am just a tempest.
a sad excuse for one.
YOU ARE READING
everything changes (but we all stay the same)
Poezieif my life could be replayed, if i could share my struggles over the course of time, if i could create such a thing, an endless recording of my life; it would be over hours and hours of overthinking. - (trigger warning for frequent, graphic descr...
