When being sober feels like being high so it doesn’t even fucking matter because the voices never stop.
Because the pain never stops
Because you can’t make people believe you
Or make them care
Or make them do anything
Because you can’t unknow what you know and there is nothing strong enough to kill those memories.
And you’re just tired
And hurting
And it doesn’t matter
It doesn’t get better for everyone
Stop telling comfortable lies over hard truths
Some of us suffer
Some of us die
Some of us wish we had
Some of us shuffle onward like still here zombies
Who just want rest and respite
That will never come
Help only comes for the wicked
Laughs and Lobotomies 