Oblivion Morning, High Night

I lay down
My pillow is cold and unwelcoming
my bones ache and groan with the worlds problems

Sometimes I do not think I belong here at all
There must have been a mistake
Sitting up I walk to take a seat with my metals

I have had better conversations with razor blades than ever with my own parents

Little beads of blood dance onto my skin in thin lines, welcoming

I clean myself up after dragging myself up off the ground
Bloody bandages are sometimes the only colors I see every now and then

Again I lay down
My pillow still cold, I rest my mind
Hello oblivion and hello to the high

I wake up
My pillow is cold
Oh wait...
Today
Is my birthday ?