A moment of honesty.

I’m floating, drifting.
I’m not living I’m existing.
I refuse to make any decisions;
I’m stalling, saying the same words over and over.
It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt.
I wish it would hurt.
I hate being lonely, I hate being sad,
I hate being drunk, I hate being sober worse.

I hurt myself sometimes,
when I lay down in the dark,
the pain, the burning,
it’s what I cling to.
I sleep better because of the pain,
It comforts me,
because if I’m bleeding, if I’m in pain,
that means I can still feel.

People are wrong,
emotions like love, hate, anger and jealousy,
they aren’t the worst things you can experience.
Emptiness, life draining, constant, emptiness.
That is hell on earth.
I would give anything to feel the fire of love,
the bitterness of hate.

I would give anything to feel.

So I get drunk,
I hurt myself,
I push people away.

It’s not an answer but then again I never said it was.

I tried to love someone,
when I lay in her arms
watching the contentment on her face
as she slept against me
I tried to convince myself that I could pretend for her.
I could cover up the void.


I couldn’t.
I failed to uphold the mask.
I wish I could make her understand,
that if she put an ear to my soul she’d probably hear the sea.

There’s an ocean, lifeless, vast,
rolling endlessly around my soul.
If you fall in love with me,
you fall into that ocean,
there’s no boat to rescue you,
there’s never going to be any land in sight.