How much farther?
I can feel the pistol in my hand, and it’s fucking mocking me
For not using it when I could have, when I should have
Because now, it isn’t even real, just my brain lying to me
I can feel the weight, the texture, the warmth that metal gets from being held
But my hand is empty, and so am I
The belt is laughing-
I can still feel it around my neck
My scars are singing-
They want to be repainted in blood
And I’m fucking drowning
I didn’t know I could keep sinking
How much farther can I fall?
That rock bottom is just a landing, that the waters go deeper
I’m losing myself, I’m losing my fucking mind
I have to keep going, I have to come up for air
But it’s hard when you’re hanging from a bedframe
This isn't me looking for help- I'm going to be ok. It just helps me to get it out instead of keeping it in my head. If you're reading this, I hope that you are warm and safe, and that you know you are loved.