Pathetic
How can I describe it?
It's like loosing half of my body and still trying to function with what's left.
How do they do it?
How does he do it?
If one could bottle up the strength he possesses...
8 months... and I'm still crying myself to sleep...
I can't function,
I can't breathe,
I can't move,
And I can never sleep.
What god is there, when I'm in this hell?
Surviving, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.
Each day is a battle,
Each heartbeat a battle.
I'm lucky my heart still decides to beat.
I even remember the last moment I saw you, the memory etched into my being, refusing to let it go. Standing in my doorway, my sister hissing at you to get out.
Every morning since, it has been a struggle to find the will in me to go on.
The sky... it has no meaning like it used to.
The stars are just points of light,
where before... they spelled out your name.
I'm pretending I'm strong, I assure you, the facade never fails. I fool even the most stubborn-minded people.
It's when I'm in my room, alone at night, that these tears start to flow and I wish with everything that I am that you were here with me.
Or that I were dead.
How much left do I have in me?
Isn't there a limit to what people can handle?
Isn't there a limit to what even the strongest can withstand?
Maybe I'll become someone else entirely, and erase the McKenna that is drowning in her own despair.
Leave her behind, bury her in depths never to be dug up.
Goodbye,
My last message as myself:
I don't want to die,
Please don't let me!
I want so to be happy...
To lie in your arms again.
But I would rather die than never see you again.
_____________________
It's getting harder to do -
To simply live among you,
Unnoticed,
Untouched,
And breathe the way you do.
To pass you on the street,
You will never see this face again,
Wondering idly what that soft glimmer in my eye was.
But you've already forgotten.
It's like loosing half of my body and still trying to function with what's left.
How do they do it?
How does he do it?
If one could bottle up the strength he possesses...
8 months... and I'm still crying myself to sleep...
I can't function,
I can't breathe,
I can't move,
And I can never sleep.
What god is there, when I'm in this hell?
Surviving, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day.
Each day is a battle,
Each heartbeat a battle.
I'm lucky my heart still decides to beat.
I even remember the last moment I saw you, the memory etched into my being, refusing to let it go. Standing in my doorway, my sister hissing at you to get out.
Every morning since, it has been a struggle to find the will in me to go on.
The sky... it has no meaning like it used to.
The stars are just points of light,
where before... they spelled out your name.
I'm pretending I'm strong, I assure you, the facade never fails. I fool even the most stubborn-minded people.
It's when I'm in my room, alone at night, that these tears start to flow and I wish with everything that I am that you were here with me.
Or that I were dead.
How much left do I have in me?
Isn't there a limit to what people can handle?
Isn't there a limit to what even the strongest can withstand?
Maybe I'll become someone else entirely, and erase the McKenna that is drowning in her own despair.
Leave her behind, bury her in depths never to be dug up.
Goodbye,
My last message as myself:
I don't want to die,
Please don't let me!
I want so to be happy...
To lie in your arms again.
But I would rather die than never see you again.
_____________________
It's getting harder to do -
To simply live among you,
Unnoticed,
Untouched,
And breathe the way you do.
To pass you on the street,
You will never see this face again,
Wondering idly what that soft glimmer in my eye was.
But you've already forgotten.