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  • Writer's picturejacky

wake up

wake up


im falling

from the highest point in along time

its my great depression calling

surviving without commiting a crime


a crime mixed with fear

terrified of myself

waiting for it to backfire

trying to escape my nightmare


waking up with sweaty palms and a heavy breathing

in my dreams i was screaming

trying to escape the bleeding and praying that my heart will keep beating

my body freezing and my eyes staring at my bedroom ceiling


scared to move my head, to see something that is not there

myself prepared while reaching for the little left air

my outwear nowhere to be found, wake up

make a cut, it was just a dream, very fucked up


maybe its a scheme

in between live and death

an extreme mess

without any sucsess or progress


being stuck in the same place

with time in this place, im digging my own grave

the need to try and escape is the same as the feeling of being a disgrace

the waves of fear and sadness, being replaced with the nightmares on the trains

being put in chains, heavy weights and the pains, it drains

feeling the blood rushing throug my veins, hopefully it doesnt stain


wake up


i dont want to feel anymore like an inmate, locked in its own prison of mind

the tears wiped away and please dont look behind

the request of being free declined

how can i get out of this mess im in, paralyzed

traumatized by my past, that even my nightmares seem very organized and planned in beforehand


apologized to myself for the nightmares i created, giving myself a hand to hold on to

dragged through the dirt of others, stabbed in the back, smacked in the face

they have me wrapped around their fingers

pulling at once all my triggers

with whispers, pictures, cutting my line of hope with their scissors

there are no listeners, scared and shivers

seeing myself in front of many mirrors

im wide awake, am i becoming my own killer in my nightmares?


wake up


picking it up and keep it in mind, i know im innocent

funny isnt it

i have to remind myself, that im innocent, that im not what to me happend

manhunts in my nightmares, turned me into being absent

second hand judgement by myself


going through the bookshelfs of hell

trying to find the heaven section somewhere

unaware of whats happening around me

being dissociated by my reality, where is my sanity

slowely losing my gravity, i need a strategy

does that make me a wannabe?

the only thing im needing is for myself loyalty

but my anxiety keeps me constantly company


i forgot my need to wake up

fuck, withdrawn into my nightmare

shoved and unwanted touched, my minds crushed

disgust and frightened

damaged by my trauma, the only thing helping is marijuana

but i cant always stay high, but im not ready to say goodbye

misidentified myself, putting me on standby


wake up



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