i’m tired
completely worn out
after hours of distress
no christmas dinner for me
haven’t caught a bite to eat
between the suicidality
and avoiding the police
wasting away this christmas day
lost on the verge of
a fraying mentality

i should be dead
how do i keep pulling through?
this weird instinct is wired
all wrong
i fight to stay alive
meanwhile, i’m fighting to die


Seasons Remorse

Christmas brews steadily
midnight hour draws nigh

I’m still here
at the brink of the world
legs slung over the edge
about to fall and die
as the panic from today
bluntly refuses to subside

too depressed to think
too empty to care
Christmas is so lonely
when you’re sick
and can’t feel cheer

The Cost of Living

I just received an invoice in the mail
$97 owed to an accident and emergency centre
For when I showed up distressed
Near the end of November
Asking for a quiet place to sit
While my panic attack rode out
And I regained the will to live

This country has medical funding
To ensure good health is maintained
Because accidents do happen
It really is a shame
That the place that I took solace
The place I thought was safe
Has been stripped from my breast
Due to monetary strain

I’ve unintentionally become a suicidal maniac, been having to go to a lot of medical departments recently.. I think this was an admin screw up but I’m too sick to deal with it or even pay it ugh

Daily Heart Attack

Waking up is painful
Dry eyes roll back in my head
There’s a tightness in my chest 
Heart palpitates fitfully in distress

This constant heart attack of mine
Is frightening all the time
From this perpetual anxiety
When will I ever be freed?

The Void

You might know how it feels 
To always be a mess 
A cacophony of chaos 
And forever quite distressed 

You may know the discomfort 
That lurks in empty chests 
The sense of losing touch 
As though there’s no one left 

But hang in there they’ll tell you 
A bouquet of love struck lies 
Their pain you must avoid somehow 
It’s a wonder you’re still alive

Losing Touch

Well here I am again once more
They found me dead and on the floor
My head is bruised, the bumps they throb
But it’s the pounding in my heart
That just won’t stop

Full-time care a few days this week
Will it be enough to beat defeat?
That sentence sounds fucked
But I don’t care at all

Poetry is bullshit
I’m not even lovesick 
What are we doing here?

Derealisation engulfs me
I just cant grasp reality

I’ve lost my fucking mind