Fighting For My Sanity.

Underground, hiding out.
Feeling broken without a doubt.
Insides twisting, feeling sick,
Repeatedly running into a wall of brick.

Not knowing if I hit another obstacle or if I'm at the end.
So tired and exhausted from waiting for my heart to mend.
Clueless as to whether to give up or try to fight more,
Pushing friends away from not caring anymore.

Keeping busy all the time so I don't have to feel,
Two months ago's event still feeling so surreal.
When I get a minute to myself, and I sit alone to think,
I begin to lose it and my resolve begins to sink.

I've done so well with not giving in, but it gets harder every day.
When I'm getting to the point of it being my only quick fix to be okay.
I don't want to be labeled, but I think it'll be my only chance
Of a means to an end to this increasingly tiresome dance.

I can feel my strength waning, slipping away like a fistful of sand,
My brain is screaming at me, giving me the command,
To go get it from the box in my closet, leave it out for good,
Telling me, 'who cares if you'll be misunderstood?'

'Maybe at least you'll feel better, that'll be a start!'
But, I know it's the wrong answer in my heart!
I'm falling apart, and if it keeps up, I'll give in.
To my old addiction, my single deadliest sin.