You gave him your blood and your warm little diamond, he likes killing you after you're dead

There have been times when I feel so broken and weak that I wonder how I am still here. Maybe I don't have a breaking point, because I'm sure that if I did, I would have reached it by now. Some nights, I lie in bed wondering how I am going to be able to get up the next morning, because no amount of sleep seems to be enough to repair the damage that I cause myself during the day. I feel like a ghost.