Do you know what its like
To have to check your pulse to know youre alive?
You go through the motions
But youre just too empty inside.
Happy is the fake smiles and
The fake laughs.
Moments of true happiness are
Few and far between.
When they appear, they are a glorious white,
Hot light, but when they disappear
-and they always do-
The cold, black emptiness consumes you.
Those bright, hot moments are
Gone so quickly, it makes you
Question whether they were real at all.
The only real solace you find,
Outside of the brief white flashes,
Is in the delightful pain you
Inflict on yourself.
The bruises you leave on your legs
From mercilessly beating on them.
The scars left all over you,
Your arms, legs, and stomach,
Carved deep by the razor.
In those moments of tantalizing,
Blindingly joyous, and bloody pain,
You know for certain that you are alive,
Even if your life is really just existence
For the sake of others.
Yes, in those moment you are certainly alive.