When Night Falls
When Night Falls
I’m awake, but Not because I want to be/
I say it’s insomnia, it’s really anxiety/
I’m not afraid of the dark, I’m scared out of my mind/
I’m horrified of the shadows even though, these are mine/
I was always taught, growing up, “just be calm and pray for guidance”/
But honestly, I got tired of being answered with silence/
I don’t mean to be disrespectful, if that’s your faith, that’s fine/
I guess I wasn’t doing it right, so it’s no longer mine/
It’s a constant struggle and people just don’t understand/
They don’t understand the fact that they don’t understand/
So they press and prod and they think they have the tonic/
To fix what ails the broken side of me and then they put me on it/
Shoving it down my throat like it’s the absolute remedy/
And if it doesn’t take, they give up and say they tried, but I have to want to fix me/
Grew up in church, they thought I was weird too/
Maybe they were right, I never quite fit the shoe/
It’s the worst kind’ve hell to want to belong- But not feel the way it says you should in the words of the song/
And to be told that anxiety is a form of demon possession/
And my dyslexia is a lie, I’m just not applying myself to my lessons/
My stomach hurts, migraines make my vision hazy/
I really am trying, nobody believes me, they just think I’m lazy/
I can’t sleep for days, I’m tired but I just can’t work it out/
Then while visiting loved ones, I barely arrive and I’m passed out on their couch/
I hate it! They must think that I’m so inconsiderate!/
They probably hate me, think I’m rude, and their feelings, like I don’t even consider it/
I go home, wide awake and exhausted/
I swear that these walls are laughing at me, I’m boxed in/
The voices get louder, telling me I’m not strong enough/
This is it, I’ve had it, I’m done; The pain is too much/
Why is it so dark? Why do I feel alone?/
When I’m supposed to fee the safest at home/
I lie when people ask me how I’m doing/
Just to end the conversation quickly and hurry them thru it/
I know they don’t really care, they asked because: manners/
I see their eyes searching my face, my clothes, my injury: scanners/
Reminders of why I don’t venture out often anyway/
Questions, always questions, and the judgments they don’t say/
I pull down my sleeves so they don’t see the scars within/
From nights I can’t stand myself and claw at my own skin/
I feel like a prime example of “What not to be when you grow up”/
I see it on their faces, I get it, if I had to look at me, I’d wanna throw up/
But at home, again, it’s a whole other battle/
I can’t help the feelings, the fear, I’m rattled/
Another choice, another midnight taunting me, shadowy figures/
Alcohol? Pills? Smoke? Blade? Because I’m too much of a failure to pull the trigger/
KTupua