Thoughts at Midnight on a Monday

It's like this...they tell you you can't be fixed by
The one who broke you; that you have to fix yourself
But what about when you're who shattered yourself?
Then who can you turn to for help?
What happens when you find you're stuck in a paradox
When in the morning you cry youself out of bed and
rock yourself to sleep at night alone in a shared room.
And it's like you just don't want to be alive anymore
But the thought of dying scares the fu©k outta you.
How am I supposed to breathe when there's no air in my lungs.
How can I take deep breaths when my chest refuses to expand.
I can't find my own g*dd@mn path when
my head is dizzy and my eyes keep crossing
I need to talk to someone about my fu©ked up head
But "I'm fine" is the only thing that comes out.
My long sleeves hide my scars, makeup hides the tears
And I plaster a smile on my face for my peers
Bright colours burn my eyes because
I'm so used to being locked in without light.
And sudden loud sounds make me flinch
Because I'm familiar with a strong angry fist.
I stare at my feet as I walk through life
Because I've fallen and crash landed before.
And g*dd@mn it I'm tired of pain...