Wince Myself to Sleep

When its to much to move. To much to carry on. To hard to breath. To hard to love. When emotions feel fake, because you fake it to much. When a smile turns your stomach, because nothing is beautiful enough.

What do we do? We stand strong, To carry on. To find love. To stop the charade. To find beauty in people again.

But when pain is pleasure, and not the physical kind. When you hurt because you want to.

What is the reason i give myself when i open my eyes each morning? Curl up to my cigarettes, the warmth is perfectly clear.