Nutshell

to the inner peace that will never be a privacy to the outer most shell of my being yelling and crying out for a help that will never come

a silence so darkening that I would feel better dead to the noises so loud that I still feel alone,

in a nutshell, this is who I am

The path that I am on, the journey in which I do not belong. Walking in circles never going anywhere, staying in the same place as fear grips my throat suffocation enduring the night all I have to do is fight.

Fighting alone this battle never ceases, myself I want to be but comparatively, you shove others in my face.

Cold blade across my wrist is how you make me feel when every other person is who you wished I was, like being myself is never and will never be good enough so putting on a mask is the only way I know how.