I wake up in pain every morning,
the alarm screaming in my ear like an undisciplined child
half the time I’m fighting back the tears
that love to caress these eyes
like the evening before, when I was sad
thinking about the guilt of my youth, all mistakes made
howling at me as if I’m rolling in my own filth
take me back, this can’t be the real me
why did I do this, not do that
took up all these bad habits, am I becoming mad?
Most of the time I start to believe it when,
Just a few years before, I recovered from a bad addiction
Needing something, just anyone to see
Too many did indeed, and here I am
Every day, all day
Feeding this mind, becoming more ashamed
Of the scars on my arms, taunting every belief
I used to have, this can’t be what life is about
I know it’s dumb to say, but churches to me
Are just a lath, carving fear into the brains
Of innocent minds, train wrecks ready to happen
It’s exhausting, coming home
Laying down, knowing I put on an act
Talking to people, smiling at strangers
Lying to myself and others,
That I am fine, but it’s no secret to me,
That this mind is far from sleeping.
I go to bed every night. Suffering.
And yet, it pleases me.