My Thoughts

Im tired

Since 2.30am last night I've been lost in what I fear most. Hope. I get high off the feeling yet when I come down I think I'm going to get something I'm not. It keeps me up because I think tomorrow is like Christmas. I'm going to wake up excited and break open a box and get exactly what I worked for. I feel like I'm 7 again. But this time with a bit of struggle. A bad one. I feel like I didn't get what I want and I'm sat there with s empty present and years in my eyes. Thinking to myself. What did i do. I've been so good. Why did you do that. Get my hopes up just to leave me sat and scared once more. Instead I've been doing what I've been taught. Wiping my eyes smiling and leaving. You get what your given. That's all that matters. Asking why is rude so you keep it to yourself. You leave and you cry on your own. Don't let them know your upset or feel betrayed. Give them a second chance.

They deserve it.

Why do you think you deserve anything anyway. So what you helped a few people. Everyone does that. Doesn't matter if you suffered. That's not whats good. What happened then? Is that it? Wrote a few stories that don't mean anything? Interrupted people? Shouted? Got angry? Lost things? That it?

Is that all you've done?

'Want me to leave you alone?'

As the words release from my fingers its sent off and she sees it. She types. It goes. She types it goes. Then nothing. I think she's given up. My throat tightens and breathing gets harder. My hands tremble and my phone drops onto my bed. I push myself off and start to pace around the room. I throw on my hoodie and pull on a  pair of jeans. I scrounge around my room for loose change for an excuse to leave the house. Once I get out the door I rush out and rounds corner. No one knows me here. My legs start to shake and my hand catches my head as it falls. I scream silently as I pace up and down the street. Getting slower and slower as time goes on.

Eventually I re-enter the house.
Covered in blood only I can see. Wounded only in my mind.
The world of my phone pulls me back in.

'How could you think I'm bored of you?'

I shake my head and wipe the tear that fell onto my screen.
You tell me.