it's these nights.
the quiet nights devoid of sobs and shaking. absent of names and faces to remember, to assign blame. these nights when it's nothing more than a shadow hovering over my shoulder, holding my hand, whispering in my ear and stroking my hair as i lay in bed. this shadow telling me, in the softest, most sweet voice, that i don't belong here. i'm not supposed to be here. they'd be better off if you weren't here. there's nothing for you here. they don't need you here. they don't want you here.
yes. yes, it's this complete feeling of privation. of not belonging in this body in this family on this planet. like my own skin would exorcise me if it could. these soft, slow, quiet nights where i can do nothing but lay beneath my covers and simply wish to vanish. to stop. to not be.
these nights.
- watch over me tonight.
YOU ARE READING
Big F**king Mood: A New Narrative
Non-FictionA series of thoughts, questions, lists, rants, daydreams, and confessions. TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of depression, anxiety, bullying, and sexual harassment.
