How I Feel

I've never been one to put up a fight.
I don't know why. It's just not in my nature.
I just watch quietly as everything falls apart.
I guess the fighter in me just gave up
long before the battle was won.
I feel like I'm fading,
but was I ever really there?

It's like my hands never stop shaking these days.

I've been dreaming of razors again.
I've been picturing my funeral.
I've been imagining running into traffic
or jumping off a bridge.

My hands, they won't stop shaking,
and my voice, it always falls flat.
I'm awkward and nervous around people I used to know like the back of my hand,
and my friends all look at me with concern.
They say I'll be fine,
but I know that I'm cracking.

And yeah, I guess I should open up more.
But when I let people in
and butterflies fly from between my cracked ribs
pouring out the stories locked in my head,
I lose a piece of me.
It's something I'll never get back.
I just can't afford
to give away more of my heart.
I've already lost too much.