Sometimes I lose my grasp of reality
All I have to do is open my fist
And out falls pieces of friendships that gave me gravity
The ones I keep crossing off of my lists
I listen to the thunder of the music
And the pounding of my feet, invisible and soft
Running from pain and a life not of my choosing
But if family and friends is found, then I choose lost
Sometimes I stop and realize I don't feel real
I actually don't believe that I exist
Emotions so bland I can't even feel
Death pouring out when I slit my wrists
And when I watch the dark blood pooling on the ground
It reflects my face back towards me
Bitter and tear-streaked; and then I drown
In my own self-deserved misery
|