melted

don't wish to start over

don't wish to start over when you've already come so far.

people like to talk about the voices in your head as if they're a bad thing, as if they will lead you to death and destruction, misery and misfortune, and all of those may be true but that does not mean that they nor their container are inherently bad by default, they may say they hate you and we hate you and your existence burns a hole in the atmosphere, you're pulling everyone into your death trap but they mean well, you suppose that once you move into the new house you'll be able to sleep without them infiltrating your dreams but you stay awake to fend them off anyway, you want to tell everyone you've ever hurt that you're sorry and that it was your fault and you hope that they're happy and you want to tell everyone that you've ever loved the exact same thing because they're both on a spectrum of caring that you never cared about graphing, the graphics show up on your screen and scroll by scroll by scroll by and you keep scrolling until you hit the end and there's nothing but blank browser and the voices urge you keep going, you'll get there if you just keep going and now the browser is a metaphor for life because nobody can take things at face value anymore, your english teacher hasn't seen you in weeks and your classmates have come to the conclusion that you're dead and all you can do is tell the faceless people that they're loved because it's easier to strum augmented chords and at people whose faces you can see clearer than your own intentions, there's a few people out there that you know you'll probably die with your sorries to them locked back in one of your vertebrae that gave you all those back problems because sorries unlike apologies aren't marked as forgiven by that stamp of approval you keep chasing, you're alive but you only live through what you can control, you're running past the car, you're taking a final snapshot disguised as a victory lap, you're trying so hard, you're going backwards through a brick wall that crumbles with the weight of your shoulders, you can't scream so you just sink, you're one of them, shivering sweating cold.

don't wish for what you've already been given.