my breath turns to fog. as i walk home through rotten leaves. i am hungry, and tired, i sort of want to scream. but i don’t.
just splash some water on my face; drink coffee. turn my feelings into jams and jellies, let them sit in jars on the counter until the world freezes over. write myself an endless stream of sad poetry.
because it’s been two years. and i’m not better. i still wake up, feeling like death warmed over; forget to take my meds; and crumble the second the pillow meets my head. but the girl i used to be… she was brilliant. and brave. and kinda miserable, and obnoxious, but god, i miss her some days.
so i visit her grave after school, in a nerdy, ironic way. give her some wilting flowers, and read a sappy eulogy, as fire falls from the sky. i’ll beg for forgiveness, i’ll scream and i’ll cry. and of course i won’t fix it. but i’m still gonna try.
make way too big a deal out of it, when everything goes sideways. even though it was inevitable. i’ll sob into my pillow, i’ll taunt the welling storm. and let its wrath swallow me whole.
and yeah i’m dead, yeah i’m gone. but i’m still here, so.