As I stare at the stranger in the mirror,
My reflection cuts like a razor.
Drowning in opiates.
Lost in the emptiness.
Tearing open old wounds just ot feel.
Praying this all isn't real.
I'm tired of throwing myself up, & Making excuses.
Bulimia tastes better when you swallow the truth.
I know you want to kill me,
But Darling, I'm already dead.
I'm singing but I'm dead, I'm saying the words that we're never said.
For the lost, the hurt, & the ripped apart.
For all those with a barely beating heart.
I know it's hard, I know it's hard.
But you will smile again!
We are the living dead!
A slave to OCD, Consumed by my anxiety. Can I smile? Without forcing myself. No matter how many pills I take, or the smiles I fake. Anxiety controls every part of me. I can't destroy what's inside of me. The Devil's singing a sin filled lullaby, wearing a necklace of Rope with me, side by side.