It's so easy to lose everything.
Everything you have,
Everything you had,
And everything you want,
Could all be gone in an instant.
Losing your mind is no different.
When there's nothing left to fight for
Nothing left to gain
Or nothing left to lose
Why keep fighting?
What are we supposed to do when hope runs dry and we begin to choke on our insecurities?
What are we supposed to do when all we have left is slowly killing us, piece by piece and nobody even notices?
What are we supposed to do when we torture ourselves and everyone else thinks it's all we've ever wanted?
Nobody sees the tears,
Nobody hears the screaming,
Nobody has these scars,
But we don't give up.
We know, that no matter what we lose,
How far our mind leaves us,
How much we struggle that we must never give up.
Why?
Do we feel we owe it to ourselves to continue suffering?
Or do we really know that it'll get better?
Maybe it's at our lowest point when we realize that nothing really matters until you decide it does.
Maybe we decide what to lose and when; we decide to let it go.
We decide to lose our minds, because they're not adept enough to handle what life is really about.
We struggle to remind ourselves that we're human.
Every tear,
Every echo,
Every scar,
Is another reminder to never give up and is never in vain.
We owe it to ourselves to continue suffering.
We owe it to ourselves to make it better.