Truth

Anxiety

A series of texts while I turn the knob for the water.

I take a picture of myself in that mirror for remembering why I want to smash my face into it.

When I enter the shower I start to think about her and sit awhile on that floor for about an hour .

As it ends I stand up just a shell of what I recollect and finally take the time to wash instead of think.

As I stand in this sink and begin to wash my body with different kinds of soaps, I mope.

I apply paste to my face and as I touch this face I begin to feel this face foreign not of my body. it's not mine but who would take the time to get in this shower with me.

Thuroughly my fingers linger examining this discovery that had discomfort me.

I gaze around realizing I might not be in this place.

I feel bodies around me these arms aren't mine.

I feel bodies surround me this wall isn't here.

I hear bodies around me I hear voices surround me and I bleed inside my heart pumps to hard I studder every word and surrender every movement not knowing what I'm doing.

Am I touching my friends or am I touching my towel.

If this is my body then why can't I feel it.

Is it a possibility somebody could steal it.

Is this a shell must I peel it

I feel myself walking out of world.

What I see isn't here.

It isn't clear but I can tell it isn't here.

Or maybe I'm not here but if I'm not then what's to fear.

I feel these eyeballs as I walk through these school halls back to my bedroom but weather that is even a destination is yet to be a proclamation made by this place.

I finally make it and place myself onto my bench,

I jump.

I place myself along my bed.

A long night.

As I write this a somewhat feel at ease, goodnight.