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Yesterday I was

Sitting in the sun and

Driving on the highway and

Reading a book and

Sipping tea and

Painting my nails and

Twirling my hair and

Singing in the shower and

Smiling for no reason.

Today I am

Crying myself to sleep and

Rocking back and forth and

Barely hanging on and

Sitting in the dark and

Staring at the wall and

Feeling worthless and

Being worthless and

Being stuck in a corner and

There’s no way out and

I can’t do it anymore and

The Lightbulb

When did I start?

When did I start to hate myself so badly,

I’d rather die than face another day

Being

Me?

When did breaking bones

And

Slicing skin,

Become a habit?

When did I start?

I don’t remember any

Defining moment.

It’s as if one day,

That bright idea lightbulb above my head started to

Dim.

And I didn’t notice the darkness creeping in,

Because it happened slowly,

Not all at once.

When did I start to die inside?

What if you only get

One?

One shining idea lightbulb?

When did it start?

I don’t know.

I’ll never know.

Hatred is not pure blackness,

It is a brownout,

Slowly seeping its way into every

Corner

Of your darkening mind, until it

Inevitably…

Goes

Out.

What It Feels Like

It feels like exhaustion,

Without being tired.

Like your mind is about to drift away…

Off to sleep,

To dream

Beautiful

Things.

But there’s no point of

Unconsciousness.

The lines of reality and dreams are

B l u r r e d.

But there is no sleeping.

And there is no waking up from your

Thoughts.

It’s just lying on the floor,

While the world moves slowly,

Unconscious of your consciousness.

What Did I Do To You?

What did I do?

Why did you just suddenly

Drop

Me?

Ditch me,

Ignore me,

Complain about me.

What did I do to

Lose

You?

We don’t

Talk, we don’t

Text, we don’t even

See each other.

Why?

I know you’ve got him here,

And you love him;

But what’s wrong with us?

I was there for you.

We’d stay up late,

Call each other sometimes,

Even sleep in each other’s rooms.

So why now?

What changed?

I thought you were my

Friend.

And now?

Three years later?

Now I’m not even an

Acquaintance.

I’m just like all those other

Girls

You complained to me about.

Just another friend who didn’t

Measure

Up.

Unfinished Business

It’s not over.

Unfinished.

Incomplete.

I’m not done.

And that scares me.

How easily it is to start up

Old

Habits.

I knew they were supposed to

Die

Hard.

But nobody told me they don’t always

Stay

Dead.

And that scares me.

But the most frightening thing?

When you’re down and alone,

And those habits come back to life;

When you’ve reached your low,

Your limit,

The scariest thing?

It’s you.

You keep killing your habits,

Over and over and over

Again.

But then you’re the one who

Breathes

Life

Back into them,

Over and over and over

Again.

Because it’s not over.

You’re not done.

Which is

Scary.

But worst of all;

You don’t want to be done.