I knew it started to get bad again when
I stopped eating that much,
I started to sleep less than the usual,
Or sleep more and still feel tired.
I knew it started to get bag again,
When I no longer found a reason to get out of the bed,
Or to leave my room.
When I found no reason in putting a smile on my face,
Or putting effort on anything really.
When I started to smoke more than the usual,
When I started to fill the empty spaces from the inside with smoke.
I knew it started to get bad again,
When I didn't felt like myself,
When I felt more dead than alive,
When I felt empty and numb again.
When I felt like I have no longer a reason to stay alive anymore,
Like I have no reason to fight anymore.
I knew it from the moment that dead was starting to become an option again,
Or not an option, an escape from everything.
