Torture

Staring at the TV screen can't go to sleep.

Haven't been tired in a while, my shadow on the wall looks alive.

I'm scared of the future, scared of the past, I'm so scared of the present, I doubt I'll last.

Trying to find a better way to live my life scared of what I'll do so I'll do it fast.

Searching for love, but it doesn't look for me. I've been looking in the sky, but... I've never looked in the sea.

Forcing my words to be something better, I'm hating everything that comes out of my head. Life has been so scary I'd be better off dead.

Don't think I can make this any better. I want the music behind me, but I don't think it will make me change a line, a word, a response. This conversation is getting long.

Haven't said what's on my mind in a while, I only say it to myself. NO one will listen.

My shadow is dead it hasn't moved since I started this conversation with myself.

I do this in hopes of change.

3:35 am seems too early to sleep with this peace I need to breathe.

With the sunrise, everything is loud, with the day there is only heat, with the birds there are only songs, no words.

With the night there is only love, with the moon there is only a beat of a drum, with the stars there is my heart beating at the speed of light—hoping I could stay in bed all night—awake with time standing still and in that time I will just be.

Something just keeps coming to mind, I've suppressed everything—I can't find a way to stop my mind from going so fast—it's running toward the line in the sand. Trying to find solid ground, trying not to fall in my mind—I'm getting lost and I don't know where I am.

I have never been here I need a change of plan.

I can't find it, all the doors are closed and locked, and they seem to keep the windows blocked.

Wonder who can hear me, or if anyone cares. I think I'll keep going on until I disappear.

Because NO one sees me, and I can't see myself, NO NO NO I'm lying I haven't seen myself in years, maybe that's why I don't know why I have tears. Maybe I'm trying to remind myself that I feel and I'm not just somebody walking around, but a body that's trying to heal.

But one night after another I'm tired of crying for an hour with wet pillows drowning myself in my tears.

I'm not weak, I'm strong, but maybe that is just what I put on?

I don't know why I'm talking to myself like I even care.

And when I look back and hear my conversation I wonder if I'm faking it, if it's all just because, I can't sleep, can't eat, or I just wanna pass the time.

But nah, I think this is real and that's what's sad. What type of head do I have? One that I can't explain, one that I don't live in.

I'm drowning and the lifeguards off duty, I was too cocky, I didn't put on my life jacket. Thought I could go in the deep end of my heart, but I drowned as my tears filled my lungs.

But what is this, a cry for help?

I don't know because when the sun comes out I'll smile so much I'll think I'm perfect.

I think I'm too good at hiding, no I hid from myself, and threw it off the boat rowed so far that I will never see it float—never see its hands searching for air having its head up for two seconds just to get pulled back down into my ocean of tears.

Maybe this doesn't make any sense, and maybe I'll never be fixed.

It just wasn't in the cards as I shuffled my hand over and over hoping the cards would change in my favor—it never did.

I close my eyes, and all I see is torture.