no cure

everytime i climb back up
i wait for the fall
all the help, all the effort
feels useless
i feel useless
its my own personal hell
i am my own personal hell
like a ticking clock i shut down
maybe there was a reason
but probably not
always in my head
feels destructive 
i feel destructive 
tiptoeing around my mind
scared of what im capable of
feels like someone else
i am someone else
it wasnt always this way
guess i grew up

people tell me im not alone
i stay silent
the silent pain
the silent thoughts 
the silent cries
the silent cuts
the silence
can i talk?
no
why?
i dont know
help.
but how?
i have help
i have the meds
but i have no hope
no hope for myself
no hope for my future
why
what happened to me i ask
she was excited 
she was motivated 
she was happy
she was willing
she was 
she was
she was
who am i?
i dont know 
im trying
trying to make it through
trying through it all
just fucking trying.

maybe one day i’ll feel content
but happy? 
no
i don’t believe in happy
not anymore