Stopping my mind from breathing.
The leash has turned into a noose
And now my thoughts are seething.
Purple and blue, yet I refuse to cut it loose.

Trembling at the bottom of my feet
Giving out to weak knees
And accepting my defeat.
Can I just stop thinking, now, please?

I'm on clouds of red
Leaning on cold hands.
Vomit covers the sheets of my bed,
The vomit of my head, thoughts of every strand.

It's not murder if it's already gone
And I'm losing focus of the blood in my veins.
Breathing is wrong.
My head is full of different pains.

Scream louder.
Higher.
Thinking has bound me.
I'm feeling lighter.

When the sun rises
I'm still full of secrets.
My head is a crisis
And my eyes are full of regret.

—
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