Unable to talk and explain from this rope of turmoil around my neck. Solitude becomes my rescue plan as my Isolation acts as a comfort blanket 

My back against the wall, finding the dark to hide like vermin I find a corner so I can pretend  I’m not here 

This, my escape from the day turning the sound down to hear my thoughts rattle in my head... confusion, conflicting advise... shhhhh be quiet.  

My nails run down my skin taking a layer with them as I feel the icy sting in its wake 

A release, distraction from my destruction

Tears flow, stinging in my nose

My throat feels blocked like pills are waiting to be swallowed

A tape recorder pots in my head

A video stuck on repeat

The good times

To feel the breeze on my skin

The touch of the cold ground

Grit under my nails

Remind me in still alive