So sad that I can’t leave my bed.
Because it holds me down & even when I think I’m just dramatic,
I can’t help but feeling like a piece of shit.
And it drags me down under the surface,
Where I used to go because it was quiet and nice.
Where I used to go because it was a good place to hide.
But now it feels like I’m drowning down here.
Like there’s nothing else but mourning and fear.
Probably because I don’t know anymore, how to get back up.
And the isolation – whilst it’s all I can do, it just really sucks.
I mean I’m not alone.
And I’ve got food, a bed, a home. Still, I have reasons to be sad.
And the realization of that is comforting, but also makes me fucking mad.
Because I thought by now I’d have healed.
But the wound still feels fresh and hurts extremely bad.
I mean by that, that I’m in physical pain.
Still I can’t help but thinking my feelings aren’t valid, as if I’m playing some kind of game.
Because maybe I just like it down here.
Maybe I just want the attention, Maybe what I feel isn’t real, and really not worth to mention.
That drags me down further. And while I try to yell up, I feel like no one will hear me.
Because what happens to me, people deal with daily.
So they’d never understand how for me, it’s a whole ass catastrophe.
And it drags me down.
It’s making it harder to hide my frown.
Because no matter what, I’m at the brick of crying.
And even with things to do, it gets harder, all the lying.
It’s just that it’s harder to break through the surface.
It’s harder to keep afloat, just breathe freely, at least for a little while.
When the weights on my ankles don’t leave me,
Get heavier with each mile,
It makes it harder to fake a smile.
I don’t feel like I deserve the attention.
Because others have it worse.
Plus it might disturb them.
And what if I’m not heard?
I’m longing for happiness but refuse to let go.
Partly, because I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to do to get out of the water.
I don’t know what to do to be happy because what I want, is impossible.
So I try at least to let loose, be free,
Feeling every wave of my misery. To allow myself to pretend I’m out of luck,
Because lately it’s been so hard to get back up.
I feel like drowning in my tears.
Because it’d be easier than to fight But then again that wouldn’t be me right?
And so once again, I run and hide.
Thus loosing myself even more underwater.
Even in company feeling as if I’m on the wrong side of the aquarium glass.
At every moment, even when I laugh.
But at least then it’s a little bit less.
So I guess it’s worth it, all this stress.
I just don’t know if it helps me to heal.
But if it doesn’t – then what will. Maybe someone who also sees life as a catastrophe,
Someone who would understand me, so that’d we’d be less alone in our misery.
So in my self made loneliness, I guess I’m searching for that.
And keep looking, saying why I’m sad,
Even though it makes me feel guilty and bad.
But what else should I say when there’s nothing else but water in my head?
So when they ask how I’m doing I wanna say I’m drowning.
Fuck – I wanna read them this whole poem.
But then I’d be saying the same thing again.
And I guess that’d be kinda lame. And make them care even less.
Drive them to leave me alone with my mess.
I’ve come so far but now I’m back. Wanting to run, hiding in my bed, Feeling dragged down,
Just because I’m so fucking sad.