Ethan Jewell Its Getting Bad Again
think I understood it was getting bad again
when I started to do everything sitting down
and I think I understood it was getting bad again
when a smile became more difficult to produce than a
frown
when the room didn't light up whenever I was around
and when the tears came silently, not creating any
sound
and I think I knew it was getting bad again
when my own internal clock stopped ticking
when the itching for joy became my new favorite past
time
when a laugh with my friends cost much more than a
dime
it was more like an act that I put on, with a grinning
mouth that isn't even mine
and I think I knew things were getting bad again
when my bed went from being a resting place to
being a tune
when I couldn't look any of my friends in the face
and when I started to assume that I wasn't wanted or
needed
when my head felt haunted and I pleated
and I think I knew it was getting bad again
when my pen felt to heavy to pick up and write
when the same damn haunted dreams played in my
head throughout the entire night
so I rip out my hair, in hopes that I'll be able to see
clearly, in hopes that those I love dearly will notice
did empty patches on my head express it to you
or should I keep silent and internalize what I'm going
through or should I continue to release my empty
screams into nothingness with tears flooding down
my face
tell me, if I'm so important to you
then why am I so easily replaced
I think I knew it was getting bad again
when the fog came back
the crows flew away and the darkness started to
attack
when a simple conversation became exhausting and I
avoided all human contact
and when I began to wonder if I'll ever get my
permanent smile back
