I’m buried alive in the swarm of my mind,
Where every thought sharpens its teeth on my spine.
Silence screams louder than any real sound,
And I choke on the dread that keeps circling round.

I tear at the walls of a prison I built,
Each memory poisoned with shame and with guilt.
I bleed from the wounds no one else can see,
Yet I smile like a mask just to make them believe.

The crowd is a wasteland—I wander alone,
Hollowed inside like my ribs are a throne
Where darkness sits laughing, a king in my chest,
Corrupting each heartbeat, denying me rest.

I’m tired of breathing when breath tastes like dread,
Of waking up wishing I hadn’t instead.
And if giving up is a sin I must pay,
Then let my last thought be: I faded away.