minefields

it’s a struggle to find people who love you when you don’t even love yourself.

a thousand souls around me, yet I feel the most alone

trying to cope with the alienation I dug myself in.

looking back in the mirror is getting harder every day

I can’t even feel the music anymore when I hear it,

I end up hating every word I write and film I watch

It feels all the same, so then all of it is thrown away by my own hand.

and here, my ego, pressure hidden behind pride

still stressed about each judgmental each eye around me,

along with the words that come out of their mouths afterwards

why do I care so much?

I’m more critical of myself than the others anyways.

I’ve fallen again.

sedated by every smoke I inhale or seltzer I drink

struggling to control myself, as the screams cover up the silence of my own mind

terrified of everything I say, act, and breathe

frustrated that I’m not enough, even though I know the hunger will never be satisfied.

I can’t admit that I’m not happy, so I can’t let you consult me.

I’ve been scared of helps and therapy since I was child.

So I lie to myself that everything is okay

even though I know that the more it’s denied, the worse it grows.

I’m losing my mind over what I want or what I need.

knowing I’m destined for a path for either a sinful lifestyle or a pathway of love

I just want to run away from it all.

therefore, my mind can’t help but experiment with the thought of death again.