Most Days

What is happening?

There is a war,
Inside of my head-
Most days,
I feel like I’m dead.

Who am I?

I don’t recognize,
The sad face in the mirror-
Most days,
She becomes more unclear.

Am I going crazy?

The voices scream,
Telling me I’m unfit-
Most days,
I join in on it.

I don’t understand.

My mind is out of focus,
I watch my vision fade-
Most days,
I feel utterly betrayed.

I am falling apart.

A trembling mind so weak,
My heart slowly breaking-
Most Days,
I drown in my aching.

How do I keep going?

I cannot catch my breath,
Yet I don’t want to breathe-
Most Days,
I just want to leave.

I can’t even sleep.

To live another day,
I truly fear-
Most Days,
Feel like a year.

This is not me.

To be forever gone,
I do not belong-
Most Days,
I just feel so wrong.

Do I need help?

Battling tears I cannot cry,
I find comfort with this blade-
Most Days,
I am truly afraid.

Of whom I have become.

A mindless zombie,
Filling with lost hope-
Most Days,
It’s hard to stay afloat.

What do I do?

Longing for an escape,
Or a quick Fix-
Most Days,
Are never ending conflicts.

Do not let them know.

I smile.
I laugh.
I hide within this haze.
I pretend that I’m okay…

Most Days, Anyways.