There is nothing poetic about the way I feel
The worst part? I know it's getting bad again
The not wanting to get out of bed
Not because I'm tired
But I can't come up with any good reasons why I should
My bones are painted in flames
And this wooden heart beating at the speed of eternity?
Does not exist.
I am drowning in my lungs,
These salt ridden organs are refusing the technicality that I cannot continue to beat like a snare drum
To put it simply—
I cannot breathe
It's like my body forgot it was one unit
One team
I tend to downplay my affections most days
Was it worth it to kiss me?
There are days you're so close I could crawl into your exhale
And I stand closer, looking for a feature I haven't memorized yet
My heart shakes and my hands beat
I feel like a weak, fragile girl trapped in a body I never got use to
I've been cornered in a room where all I can see is a fun house mirror
But instead of a goofy, contorted body
I am staring directly into a list of my own shortcomings
Written onto my skin with my very own fingernails
I haven't slept well in what feels like weeks
The days are blurring together
Wake up, check Twitter, go to class, do homework, sleep, repeat.
You start to lose yourself in the routine, they always say
I don't know how to be what people want
How can I be someone else's person when I can barely be my own?
Do you remember what life was like before it made you jaded and cynical?
I should not ache this much—
Yet I wear it like my armor.
