Angels & Airwaves

Content Warning:
The following post contains description of self-harming behavior and depictions of mental illness.

I'm seeing red,
Anger pumping through me
Lighting me up like rocket fuel.
Yet, despite that,
I'm so damn close to breaking,
Shades of navy
Threaten to take me down.
And I don't know what to do with this
Worthless
Purple that I've become.

And it's my constant awareness
Of this gentle heart,
Covered with layer upon layer
Of brittle self-preservation,
That makes me so useless.
And I'm so damn tired of running.
Tired of getting beaten to shit
Whenever I let this soft heart of mine out.
And tired of having to be so damn strong,
Just to get through each day.
Tired of having scars and medications
A requirement for me to live
To see another sunrise.

And you want to know:
Why don't we talk?
Why do I live so far away?
Why don't I come home for holidays?
The answer is that you tried to break me,
And you called it love,
Called it growing up,
Called it being an adult.
And as I was lying on the floor
With blood dripping down my skin,
My heart racing 120 beats a minute,
You told me I couldn't come home,
That I'd made a commitment,
That I just needed to try and be happy.

So I rage,
Wanting to tear it all down,
Slicing through my flesh again,
Trying to dig you out,
While simultaneously breaking,
Tears streaming down my face
At how cruel you've taught me this world is.

So I put on another layer,
Wrap my heart even further in crap,
The defense mechanisms so ingrained
I don't know me without them.
And I know that at some point
I'm going to be so far gone,
So many layers deep,
I'll be someone else,
And there won't be a repercussion.

I'm so crimson
I want to do it,
Want to know if you'd finally see it then.
But I'm still so midnight
Just wanting to be loved,
Dying to be surrounded by those that love me,
That I'm violet,
Sitting here,
Hurting myself,
Hoping you'll get it...
But you never do,
And you never will.