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i have become so used to being sorrowful, i can not seem to remember when this feeling started. it has always been like this, i have not seen or felt anything else. i can not remember when the last time that i did not force myself out of my bed was. i can not think of a time i fell asleep the second my cheek touched my pillow, without forcing myself to imagine anything pleasant other than death or blasting my ears into deafness, trying to drown out the voices occupying my mind. there's never a silence. the walls scream at me. they follow my every movement, its nonexistent eyes haunt me. it sees me wrap my arms around my sick body at three a.m., trying to feel some company as i lay in an empty double sized bed. it judges me while i drink some more, trying to warm myself from within. it joins laughter with the bathroom walls, its eyes staring at me as i touch myself to feel something. i don't feel a thing. it watches my naked body as i step onto a scale, ashamed of myself. too skinny to be fat, too fat to be skinny, it's never right. red-rimmed eyes, dry lips, dark circles, dull expression, messy brown hair, pale skin, too many scars on my arms and thighs. biggest ones are on the center of my right wrist, one from an accidental burn while airfrying vegan cheeseballs, one from a failed suicide attempt. feels like a joke, but isn't. i wish it was. the beige tiles pity me as i stare into the mirror, trying to see my beauty, any beauty. i see a stranger, a stranger that has completely lost track of time. time hates me, it consumes me more and more. it gives me limits, it gives me reminders. hey, you fucking idiot! what are you waiting for, you're 23. move on with your life! haven't you heard? she's marrying her soulmate, she's trying to have babies, she's falling asleep in the arms of a significant other. and here i am, falling apart, day by day. holding onto the hope of a possible miracle, someone who will save me from myself. someone i will bleed into, someone i will give my everything to, someone i will want to be better for. it pisses me off when they say you can not expect someone to love and respect you if you don't love and respect yourself first. fuck. let me grasp onto that hope will you, i have nothing left to live for. i'm pathetic, i have accepted that years ago. will he believe me when i tell him i am struggling or will he say everything has not fallen apart so why are you even struggling? i am passing courses, i am working, i am walking, i am eating, sometimes. i am breathing, i am talking, i am existing, sometimes. there's nothing wrong with me. i'm overreacting.
