Conversations

Fighting for survival.

Maybe I'm fighting for sanity,

The loud noises in the back of my head,

Loud they go.

So I put on the music,

The rhythm has become my home,

My place.

I have been floating.

Round and round in circles.

The same point I began,

Sometimes, I think I don't deserve hope

Maybe it's this thought that death is peace,

And silence.

Life after death

I play with this thought,

My hands flickering.

The flashes run a maze in my head.

Dead, death.

The black and white flashes,

The constant reminder of me-

Myself, my past.

It all comes around at last.

I can't let go,

probably, won't let go

I need a hand.

Or I can fight this on my own,

Few steps,

Few sips,

I'm off the trench.

The taste fades on my lips.

I lay down and I'm back on this trip.

Oh well, this is what we are.

He whispers slowly.

I say, please stop,

Get out of my head.

I need you to leave.

He says back,

I am you, and you are me, haha,

Such a loser.

Look at yourself

Look at the mirror

So broken.....

So lost......