I Think I'm Lost Poem by emily holt

I wish this wasn't my every night.
I wish that I could tell you that having a fear more intense than that of dying wasn't the relationship i have with my own mind. I wish i could tell you that.

There's a small sense of piece that comes with realising that you're no longer afraid of dying. The fear of losing someone else is enough to make you want to blend in with the shadows.

The blissful thought of never again having to think for even a split second what someone else may be thinking.
The blissful idea that for the rest of eternity, i wouldn't have to face this never ending battle with myself ever again.
The blissful concept of just not existing.


"This world has so much to give you" I'm told.
It may have some to give. But there is a distinct difference between much and some.
The some that is given, much will be taken.
I don't have that strength. My strength lies in my arms, not my mind.