I’m praying like there’s something out there but I’m just looking at an empty bedroom ceiling. It’s like the day I finally lost the courage to look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that I'm worth something; I remember how blue the sky was when I told myself that I was tired of fighting. The stars seemed so much brighter after that. My world felt like it was colliding with some unknown force, but I learned that it was only my fear of surviving. I always see sadness in the empty spaces. When I wake up, I see blurry grey clouds where sunlight should be blinding. I hear static where there's supposed to be music. Lullabies sung to me by evil whispers wrapped up in tight skin, adderall-drenched dreams and promises that make the devil feel at home. A mind that shackles good thoughts and changes them into fear; being free is never easy. Flowers that once bloomed in a sunny place, died over soil that was drenched with self-pity. Tears that stain metal in ways that make rusty old objects art.