I can’t tell,
But I can’t breathe right.
I just need to feel something,
But I know nothing will come.
My skin feels foreign,
My body won’t function as it should,
I’m overly aware of my every move,
But none of it feels like my own.
I’m doubting everything that’s supposed to be real,
I’m incapable of starting anything at all,
Existing feels like a chore,
But I don’t see the point in finishing that either.
No one will believe me,
To them I am simply weak,
Just going through a rough patch,
But it’s lasted nine whole years.
I don’t want this,
Don’t let me fend for myself,
It’s never been something I’m very good at,
But I will try if I have to.
Please pull me out,
Before it’s too late,
But I think I’m already too far gone.