In the Abyss

So quiet I sit in this pit. Where I’m familiar.

Mist hits my skin. Faded light, deep abyss .

I feel chained here

Why am I chained. I made my mistakes.

Hide in my shame here

I don’t want to be seen, but I’m sick of being lonely.

I don’t want to hurt a soul. Burning holes through the old me

Im still chained. I don’t want to get away.

Got to familiar with my grave.

No I don’t want you to save.

Me.

No I’m not trying to escape

Got to scared to face the fire

While the chains rust slow

The little bit of lights slips in

Fueling my desire

Never thought I’d want to break the chains

I thought I’d be here forever

Hear a voice say don’t worry. (No worries)

Face the fire, don’t stay away

Feels like I’m drowning in my own skin right now—

Wish I could scream “I’m fine,” but the lie burns loud.

I’m sorry I chained myself here, sorry I let me down—

Let me—let me—down.

All these echoes yelling “worthless,” I can’t shut ‘em out—

Wish I could claw through the dirt, but I’m too scared to shout.

I’m sorry I let you down—

Let you—let you—down.

Chained in the abyss—dark’s got my wrists tight—

Black walls close in, swallowing every fight.

But up there’s a glow—faint, like a dying spark—

Not enough to save me, just enough to mark.

I stare till it stings, till my eyes start to blur—

Hope’s a cruel joke, but I’m too tired to turn.

Rust flakes off slow, like tears I won’t admit—

Every link creaks louder: “You still exist.”

I’m not climbing yet—

Just… breathing. Just… breaking.

Just hating how alive feels like sin.

That light—it’s not mercy. It’s a mirror I dread.

Shows the mess I made, the words left unsaid.

Not asking for wings—just one honest fall.

One crack in the quiet. One name I call.

Before the dark wins…

And I forget how to crawl.

Sky’s a bruise now—purple, raw, bleeding out

Veins of dusk twist where faith used to shout.

Chains drag like ghosts, each clink a “why me?”—

Every step’s a scar I never meant to see.

Light cuts my face—sharp, no forgiveness—

Exposes the hollows where I used to live.

I stumble, not stand—nails split, throat full of smoke—

But the pull’s getting stronger: “You’re not just smoke.”

Still falling. Still rising.

Still screaming inside—

But the grave’s just a hole…

And I’m starting to slide.

Feels like I’m drowning in my own skin right now—

Wish I could scream “I’m fine,” but the lie burns loud.

I’m sorry I chained myself here, sorry I let me down

Let me—let me—down.

All these echoes yelling “worthless,” I can’t shut ‘em out

Wish I could claw through the dirt, but I’m too scared to shout.

I’m sorry I let you down

Let you—let you down

Halfway out—halfway chained—chest split like a prayer.

No thunder. No rush. Just your light creeping near.

Not a spotlight—just a hand in the black,

Warm, steady, pulling where I couldn’t pull back.

Lungs catch fire—wrong, raw, real—

But real’s got your voice: “You’re not alone in this hell.”

One gasp. One reach.

That’s my quiet vow—

To stop being nothing…

And let your light show me how.