The fall.
My lungs are filled with the water I thoughtless swallowed when I was falling in,
hitting my chest makes no sense, the poison is already a host inside of my veins.
The inner of my body has made suffocating their brand new habit, loving the lysin.
The impact of the fall has left me heartbroken, like a doll of shattered porcelain,
the dust of the pieces will eventually melt away in the air, some might remain.
I wonder if I could’ve prevented the falling, but there’s a voice whispering it was my faith,
for me to never be a whole being, otherwise I’d probably know what happiness really is,
and that wouldn’t make any sense for me, cause what I am is a ghost,
living between walls, waiting in between, for the sun to once again shine over this corrupted oasis.
A ghost who self-sabotaged every chance of feeling okay, cause it wasn’t what I deserved.
Instead, the attraction of never having to face anything but sadness felt safer to expose me to fall afresh.
But there was something about these destructing habits that compensate for every ounce of joy I’ve lost,
feeling the rush and the numb, all at the same time after taking valium, was more valuable than being stable.
Cause being completely present meant to be taken to places in my mind I couldn’t face any longer,
some memories formed a movie so repetitive that I swear my ears would bleed if I faced it once more.
Cause every time I let myself fall in, my feelings are like the sea, without any chance of control.
Sometimes like a storm, tearing apart everything at sight, cause I can’t stand still, without feeling the need to rush in.
No matter how hard I try, there’s no way out; the middle of the hurricane pulls my emotions just to destroy everything I’ve touched.
