Manic Panic
Deaths Embrace
- Jan 5, 2025
- 733
i can't keep fucking doing this.
i don't even know what "this" is anymore existing??? breathing??? pretending??? holding on for reasons that don't even exist anymore??
i feel like i'm made of static and teeth. like if you touched me you'd get bitten.
not on purpose. i'm just feral. i don't know how to be soft anymore.
i think i'm rotting.
like actually, spiritually decomposing.
and nobody notices.
because i still smile.
i still show up.
i still laugh when people expect me to, even though my lungs feel like glass and every inhale tastes like failure.
it's not just sadness.
it's not even depression anymore.
it's something worse.
like… my brain's a house with all the doors kicked in and windows shattered and something's living in the walls now.
something ugly. something not me.
but also too me.
i see things that aren't there.
i believe shit i shouldn't.
i hear whispers that sound like me but meaner, older, like some version of me that died and came back wrong.
and it tells me to leave.
just leave.
but i won't.
i can't.
because i'm attached to the pain.
it's mine.
i made it.
i earned it.
and if i leave i don't get to witness the ruin.
i want to watch it all fall apart.
i want to feel every second of it.
and fuck, i wish i didn't.
i swear to the gods if someone tells me "it gets better" one more FUCKING TIME i'll rip my own spine out and gift wrap it for them.
it doesn't get better. it just gets quieter.
the pain doesn't leave.
you just get used to the screaming.
and still.
still.
i stay.
i stay for reasons i don't understand.
maybe it's hate.
maybe it's love.
maybe it's the fear of being forgotten.
maybe i just want someone to look me in the eye and see it ...really see it.
how i'm barely stitched together.
how every breath is an argument with gravity.
i write and rewrite the same shit.
like maybe if i say it enough, someone will feel it.
like i'm drowning and instead of screaming, i'm just scribbling "i'm fine" over and over on the wall of the ocean.
i don't even know what i'm saying anymore.
i've been typing for hours.
i've deleted nothing.
i want this to hurt.
i want it to bleed .
i want someone to read this and understand why i'm still here even though i shouldn't be.
even though i don't want to be.
i stay because i don't know how to leave.
i stay because the pain is mine....
i don't know what's real anymore.
i don't know if this is a thought or a memory or a dream i never woke up from.
i keep blinking and ending up somewhere else.
time's melting. stretching. snapping.
my hands aren't my hands.
they're just meatsticks on strings.
i think i'm a puppet.
i think something's pulling me apart and wearing my skin.
is that dramatic?? maybe. idk.
maybe not. maybe it's true.
there's something in the walls.
i hear it.
it hums when i breathe and it stops when i don't.
what the fuck does that mean.
what the fuck does THAT MEAN.
i think the shadows are watching me.
i don't mean that metaphorically.
they're LITERALLY FUCKING MOVING.
they curl when i blink.
they whisper when i turn away.
they know my name.
they say it like it's a curse.
like it's theirs.
what if i'm not real.
what if none of this is.
what if i died a long time ago and this is just hell but everyone's pretending it's not.
what if i'm the only one who can tell.
what if that makes me the crazy one.
what if that makes me the sane one.
i keep scratching at my arms and there's nothing there but i can FEEL IT
like bugs or wires or teeth
i don't know
i don't fucking know!!!!
i don't feel safe in my body.
i don't feel safe from my body.
i don't think i'm supposed to be here...
i think something went wrong.
i think i slipped through a crack in the code.
this wasn't the plan.
FUCK
Sorry...
I just wish someone could understand me because I can't...
No one can...
i don't even know what "this" is anymore existing??? breathing??? pretending??? holding on for reasons that don't even exist anymore??
i feel like i'm made of static and teeth. like if you touched me you'd get bitten.
not on purpose. i'm just feral. i don't know how to be soft anymore.
i think i'm rotting.
like actually, spiritually decomposing.
and nobody notices.
because i still smile.
i still show up.
i still laugh when people expect me to, even though my lungs feel like glass and every inhale tastes like failure.
it's not just sadness.
it's not even depression anymore.
it's something worse.
like… my brain's a house with all the doors kicked in and windows shattered and something's living in the walls now.
something ugly. something not me.
but also too me.
i see things that aren't there.
i believe shit i shouldn't.
i hear whispers that sound like me but meaner, older, like some version of me that died and came back wrong.
and it tells me to leave.
just leave.
but i won't.
i can't.
because i'm attached to the pain.
it's mine.
i made it.
i earned it.
and if i leave i don't get to witness the ruin.
i want to watch it all fall apart.
i want to feel every second of it.
and fuck, i wish i didn't.
i swear to the gods if someone tells me "it gets better" one more FUCKING TIME i'll rip my own spine out and gift wrap it for them.
it doesn't get better. it just gets quieter.
the pain doesn't leave.
you just get used to the screaming.
and still.
still.
i stay.
i stay for reasons i don't understand.
maybe it's hate.
maybe it's love.
maybe it's the fear of being forgotten.
maybe i just want someone to look me in the eye and see it ...really see it.
how i'm barely stitched together.
how every breath is an argument with gravity.
i write and rewrite the same shit.
like maybe if i say it enough, someone will feel it.
like i'm drowning and instead of screaming, i'm just scribbling "i'm fine" over and over on the wall of the ocean.
i don't even know what i'm saying anymore.
i've been typing for hours.
i've deleted nothing.
i want this to hurt.
i want it to bleed .
i want someone to read this and understand why i'm still here even though i shouldn't be.
even though i don't want to be.
i stay because i don't know how to leave.
i stay because the pain is mine....
i don't know what's real anymore.
i don't know if this is a thought or a memory or a dream i never woke up from.
i keep blinking and ending up somewhere else.
time's melting. stretching. snapping.
my hands aren't my hands.
they're just meatsticks on strings.
i think i'm a puppet.
i think something's pulling me apart and wearing my skin.
is that dramatic?? maybe. idk.
maybe not. maybe it's true.
there's something in the walls.
i hear it.
it hums when i breathe and it stops when i don't.
what the fuck does that mean.
what the fuck does THAT MEAN.
i think the shadows are watching me.
i don't mean that metaphorically.
they're LITERALLY FUCKING MOVING.
they curl when i blink.
they whisper when i turn away.
they know my name.
they say it like it's a curse.
like it's theirs.
what if i'm not real.
what if none of this is.
what if i died a long time ago and this is just hell but everyone's pretending it's not.
what if i'm the only one who can tell.
what if that makes me the crazy one.
what if that makes me the sane one.
i keep scratching at my arms and there's nothing there but i can FEEL IT
like bugs or wires or teeth
i don't know
i don't fucking know!!!!
i don't feel safe in my body.
i don't feel safe from my body.
i don't think i'm supposed to be here...
i think something went wrong.
i think i slipped through a crack in the code.
this wasn't the plan.
FUCK
Sorry...
I just wish someone could understand me because I can't...
No one can...
