I wanted to give up.

I wanted to come up from the hell i’ve endured for these years --

have been the hardest i’ve ever seen why won’t you let me leave

Me alone

I’ve tried, I’ve died, I’ve come back to life, I continue to strive but for what?

I wanted to give up

My life in one hand, my death in the other part of me wants to stand in front of a crowd

and sing aloud my story to heal while the other part wants to repeal.

To end the pain I’ve been suffering to end this marathon I’ve been running.

I wanted to give up

But no.

I reached out my hands for help. I dug myself out of this hell. Out of my grave from inside a cave where I’ve lived on a page,

and all of the depression has been suppressed, where all of this anxiety became undressed.

And for each disorder I found an order for another day when I can play, I can stay on my feet planted on the ground,

I turned around and I had found

A place.

A place that’s mine. A place where I knew that I’d be fine.

I wanted to give up.

Wanted.

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