Most of my pain,

seen close to my veins,

cuts and tears

my deepest fears.

I'm scared inside,

but outside im content,

undergoing this psychological surgery.

My mind is in the right place,

but it's the wrong time

I just need to unwind,

and realize,

The life I have is precious,

too precious to waste

not a spoonful, just a taste,

of adventures that i seek,

i shall no longer be weak

ridding myself of these 7 days of weeps

7 days of the week.

My opinions are a noose

tied around my neck of hope,

i've jumped off thte ledge before,

fortunatley the rope broke.

I have yet to forgive myself,

but i must redeem my sins

getting over my reason for believeing,

that i have nothing left within.

i've felt invisible myself

my skin felt clear,

though i'm brown, it turned black

implying all my fear.

I've stepped into darkness,

pills for sleep,

empty bottles of wisdom,

and razor cuts deep.

I'm tired of running,

my feet grow tired,

bare on glass.

I'll open my eyes

watching time pass.

As Igrow from the ground,

evolving to the sky,

my spirits are expanding

with my head held high,

this poem might be too long,

but I hope this brings faith,

to the people giving up,

no matter how much you fail,

it is never too late.