i dont wanna feel better (pom by meh)

I don’t wanna feel better.

I know this life is a rusted knife, this game a lie, and I’m no saint.

Nobody’s perfect, that’s the line they sell, but every saint I’ve seen still drags a private hell.

They say it’ll get better, but I’ve heard that before, like a prayer through a cracked door, like a promise with no core.

Hope feels like a hand that slips right through my skin, a bright little fraud that never lets me in. I don’t wanna become someone better if the price

is chasing a ghost that keeps shifting the ice.

I’ve reached, I’ve risen, I’ve almost won then I’m back in the wreckage, undone. When I’m mad, sad, or drowning in the weight of the day, my thoughts turn storm-dark and tear the light away.

Tears hit hard like a busted pipe in the wall, and once they start, they don’t stop —they flood and fall.

So I don’t reach for better anymore, not now, not then. Not because I can’t see it, but because I’ve reached and reached again.

I’m tired of stretching for a thing I can’t hold tired of chasing a cure that leaves me cold.