Ikea

I lay against the surface,
Questioning my inadequacy,
Perhaps I've assigned a greater value to myself,
Simply because I am what I built.

I wonder if this is why you would never have me.

I see you, like me, struggle to withstand the burden of life,
I imagined a life full of joy where we do this together,
But instead I am reserved to a suffering that I fall to without you;
And rather than thrive together as we do in my dreams,
We wither in this state of purposelessness.

My emotional state is dying,
My cognitive state lacks nutrition,
I have not felt joy in quite some time.
I quietly suffer but my social anxiety traps me.
I cannot call for help.
It is parasitic.

This leech sucks away any stride I make for happiness.
It cannot see me grow, it must keep me down.
But occasionally, this leech sleeps,
And I am tricked into thinking things will get better,
Until it awakens and I am overwhelmed with misery.
Perhaps if this leech were to ever leave,
I'd still be lost,
I'm reliant on this misery for all that I am.
It cannot leave me.

I'm f*****g my life up with self sabotage,
It's an addiction.
Injecting pain into my veins,
To see what I can withstand.
Cuts on my hands,
And in my heart,
So I empty it into my art,
To avoid an overflow,
Death.