who am I?

nothing feels right.

I cannot see with sight

or, at least not quite,

my skin feels too tight 

around this soul.

around this hole;

that's consuming me,

their presuming me;

to be human.

but am I?

tell me, am I?

I feel like a storm brewing 

I don't know what I'm doing

constantly choosing,to myself-

-or others will I bring ruin?

it's a battle I'm losing,

they will always be worth saving;

from myself and the darkness looming.

above my head,

wish I were dead.

am I home yet?

I'd scream inside, as I bled

look inside, I always pled.

cause all I could see was red

but not a drop of blood was shed.

it seemed, broken glass, the ground I tread.

and I, couldn't see ahead

every day, was filled with dread.

my soul was filled, with liquid lead.

i closed my eyes and spoke "this is the end"