i cry for things i shouldn't
i remember people i should forget
i change the past inside my head
i torture myself for a few more hours
i scream with myself again
i lose count of how many times i've struggled against the floor
i make new marks on the palms of my hands
i pull my hair and tear some strands
i let the tears wet the carpet
i give in to tiredness and shrink on the floor to sleep
i wake up and repeat the dose
i fall asleep faster than the day before
with no energy to remain conscious
so i wake up with the rays of light passing through the window
i sigh and think
it was just an episode, i'm okay
and then i start preparing for my routine
YOU ARE READING
encore en vie
Poetrythe fantastic never seemed so common, the beautiful has never been more equal, life has never been more ordinary, and I've never been so confused, so I wrote.
