URGE.

They ask where he’s been
He’s been kinda of dead
Half way under the moon
Somewhere in his head
The shadows greet him
And Sun awakens him
But nothing quite helps
Him feel alive within it
He misses the warmth
He misses his purpose
He struggles with the guilt
Of not being worth it
Struggles with the pain
Of being the one who made it
Being angry at the world
No longer helps
Bandages won’t work
This pain won’t be healing
His skin is peeling
Mind reeling
Fighting the urge
To hang from the ceiling