Six feet awake

I sleep with the TV on so I don't hear my thoughts,

The blue light paints the room like a crime scene I forgot.

Every night I swear I'm gonna change,

But morning hits the same and nothing rearranges.

The bottles on the dresser know my name by heart,

They're lined up like old friends watching me fall apart.

I keep the curtains closed to kill the day,

'Cause sunlight only shows me everything I hate.

And the mirror says I'm still alive,

But I don't know if that's true.

I've been breathing out of habit,

Not because I want to.

I'm six feet awake but I feel buried alive,

Clawing through the dirt just to survive.

Every broken promise hangs around my neck,

Like a chain made of regrets.

And I swear these empty walls are closing in on me,

Getting harder every day to breathe.

If this is what living is supposed to be,

Then what's left of me?

The photographs are fading on the wall,

Like they finally got tired of watching me fall.

Everyone I love says, "You'll be okay,"

But those words lose their meaning when they echo every day.

I've got scars that never made it to my skin,

Wounds nobody sees but they still let the dark in.

I keep searching for a version of myself,

But every road I take just leads to someone else.

The city's still moving without me,

The world's still turning around.

And somehow that's the hardest thing,

Knowing I won't slow it down.

I'm six feet awake but I feel buried alive,

Clawing through the dirt just to survive.

Every broken promise hangs around my neck,

Like a chain made of regrets.

And I swear these empty walls are closing in on me,

Getting harder every day to breathe.

If this is what living is supposed to be,

Then what's left of me?

I've spent years biting my tongue

Until it tasted like blood.

Spent years carrying the weight

Of everything I've became.

Every warning sign ignored.

Every sleepless night endured.

Every piece of me I gave away

Just to end up here.

So tell me—

How much more can I take

Before I finally break?

I'M SICK OF FEELING NUMB.

SICK OF CALLING THIS A LIFE.

SICK OF WATCHING EVERY PART OF ME

DIE A LITTLE EVERY NIGHT.

I'M TIRED OF EMPTY WORDS.

TIRED OF SAYING I'M ALRIGHT.

IF I'M STANDING ON THE EDGE OF MYSELF,

THEN WHY THE HELL SHOULD I HIDE?

I'm six feet awake but I feel buried alive,

Still clawing through the dirt just to survive.

Every shattered piece of me is screaming from below,

Begging not to let go.

And I swear these empty walls are shaking with my voice,

Like they're finally hearing all the noise.

If this is rock bottom, then let the whole world see—

But this is the last of me.

The mirror says I'm still alive.

For tonight, that's all I've got.

So I'll scream until the silence breaks.