I'm Not Sick.

Falling.
Down and down and down into black.
I want to feel these bones against this skin.
Tell me, does that make me sick?
I can't sleep without having that blood clotted,
eye missing demon singing to me.
Can't shut my eyes and block them out.
the lights my only mercy,
Just a step off my window sill.
every second, I get a foot deeper into darkness.

I want to count them,
one rib, two, three, and more.
add a few more pills to my coffee.
Hate Hate Hate.
Hello, color black. We're getting quite acquainted, aren't we?

He sings a broken melody.
that demon of mine.
He, like the others, hide whenever I look straight at them.
they vanish away, just like everything else.
But I can still fucking see.
I see their arms reaching, dark color red underneath
their fingertips.
their mouths opening.
Jagged razors and white pearls.
No. No.
I'm not sick.

And I can't have a breath without something watching.
paranoid.
Can't stay three minutes without checking around.
Air not getting in fast enough.
They steal the light,
taking it and crushing it in their hands.
Fingers shaking
the taste of vomit in my throat.
I can see their bones.
Poking through their skin everywhere.
I want to reach out and touch them.
Am I sick?

The dark grabs me.
Pulls me through it's non seeing, no light house.
hate hate hate.
The blood rushing too fast through my veins.
My mouth open, but I still can't breathe.
All of a sudden I hit a bottom.
I feel something break inside of me.
Then it breaks again and again.
why won't it stop?!

Hey. I think I'm kinda sick in the head.