Blur

calm before the storm

you see a ceiling, white and perfect.
the same one you looked at the night before, its funny how you look at it every 5 minutes as if it would change, it's not going to tell you anything you know or burst into some thoughtful tumbler quote to sympathise with you.
damn hell Krys just go to sleep.

roll over, and reach out for the phone you picked up ten minutes ago, flinch at the brightness of its comforting screen, it too offers you the same thing as always usual pointless Instagram posts and somewhat enjoyable memes that you smirk at before dropping your phone sigh and look at the stars out the window.
surprise. their the same as well.  
4 am and your there again. in that headspace that dooms you.
the thoughts that shall drown you. 
it's my showtime to whisper you things you had on the backburner and hidden underneath other deemed important life things. 

Krys whats going on? you're going to get up in an hour to do situps so you get that bod. 
but why? you're slim enough and you still walk a block to school. I also don't get why you bother stressing over that math test. you know you will flunk it. but who cares? you really think finding the value of x in a triangle is going to get you a job or a life. 
you seem so happy. and you are. your life is great Jake loves you, he said last Saturday with that rose. your parents... are the same but it's not like they are down your thought and pulling at your ear anymore, and Mrs Nessam was impressed with your English speech.
You're doing great.

your face grows wet and pools of moisture sink onto your pillowcase, you don't sob or heave your shoulders along with the tears, just lie silently admiring soft bright stars. 
as your vision blurs.
and wait in anticipation for the alarm of green day to wake you up. 

time to face the music sunshine.