I breathe, and I breathe till the ticking of the time,
Untying the knot, listening to the whispering chime.
Tossing and turning, running away from what they want me to be,
Till I rasp and repose, till I long to be set free.
Tears made of acid seeping through the core,
Rolling blunts in hell as my ashes fall to the floor.
Knock it down, they say, it’s a phase you’ll get through,
String your soul to silence and dim it with dew.
I am crying, I’m trying, yet the demons spurn to grow old.
While you repel and repulse when I seek a hand to hold.
My demons have darkened. My soul can’t breathe.
I can’t grasp the failing thoughts that lie beneath.
I scar deeper to touch the darkest depth of my art,
And run fingers beside the cold crashed glass that was once my heart.
Trying to crown my head with fancies, nothing worth,
Yet they rise up to haunt; to show at once demise and the birth.
They drag me to a dark place, beneath the wounding world,
Where dreams are hushed, and veiled woes unfurled.
I reach, and I reach out through the dirt and debris,
While the demon frowns, and smirks, and taps defeating me.
Withal they have seen each scar, they have gone their way,
What I needed were just three words, “Are you okay?”