I’ve been working, I’ve been working on improving,
I’ve been trying to get past the hurt and overcome the worst.
It isn’t any easier, trying to live with, the fact, I’m not the one for her.
I stumble through my days, fumble my recovery and tumble downwards.
As I fall, I hit every memory and scrape my skin on my obsessive behaviours.
At the bottom of this pit, I feel every kiss, every this, that is no more,
I feel it all, in reverse.
This is the hardest thing to feel,
This is the easiest thing to write about.
I have emotions, visions, memories on constant cycle.
I have been trying to hide from them, not to be controlled by them.
The desire not to feel or truly confront them, is overbearing.
On my best days, I see me, Alive.
I see success, I see a wife, some kids I see me having a life.
My best days, are my rare days, moments really,
The darkness feels endless, on the days of my sadness.
I feel, I am nothing, I was nothing and I will live to be nothing.
Suicide aside, on these days, in these weeks through these months,
I see no way through, no real reason to not, take myself out.