96 Shawna Luttrell
Self-hatred
I'm slipping away,
down this spiral of hate.
While closer to death I become,
but now its too late.
For any sign of recovery,
no time to start to see.
Slipping from reality,
loosing in touch with me.
And smiles so fake,
pretending to be happy outside.
While crying and hating life,
but still I'm dying inside.
And it may seem ok,
I can't remember.
Last time I was happy,
it seems like forever.
And sometimes I think of it,
what it would be like to die.
I'm so use to the thoughts now,
that it doesn't make me cry.
I'm an addict to this drug,
that feeds off of low self-esteem.
And the voices inside my head,
I can't hear anything but screams!
That feel my head with nothing,
like air that takes up space.
feeling so anti-social,
and always out of place.
I'm in denial now,
I'm almost past the point of sanity.
Reaching for whats not there,
something that might just save me.
Can I be helped?
is a question so not easily solved.
And I live with this addict in my head,
with a problem never to be resolved.
But I'm not the addict,
that gives this pain.
I'm only the voice inside,
thats telling me im sane.
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