my wrists snap, and crackle like the static on tv. i scroll through amazon for hours, looking for some miracle cure i can’t afford, to give my life meaning.

and my stomach churns, and my hands flap around aimlessly. i overthink what i see in the mirror, until i don’t know what’s left and what’s right, and it all just sorta blends together. so i run for my life, and i crash into the ground. nick my finger on a bread knife; wake up feeling like i’ve just come back from hell.

and i just kinda… sit there for hours. splash my face with cold water; brew some more tea. scroll through instagram, and daydream about money. about having an apartment, and i don’t know, paying my bills? filing my tax return, putting on some songs, and making myself a mediocre dinner. maybe going on a late-night run to a nearby costco afterwards.

because it means i’m okay. it means i’m all right. and maybe the stars are fading away, maybe the traffic lights flicker and groan, but i survived. and that’s all i can hope for, you know?

and tired, and sad, and cold are not excuses. i have to keep going, i have to do this. but i just can’t stop scrolling. or watching sitcoms on my phone. i collapse on my bed, and wrap myself up in blankets, wishing my ghosts could just leave me alone.

i push a broken car up a hill, all on my own. chug three cups of coffee on the long drive home, and fall asleep at the wheel. the sirens pulse as it all fades out; this can’t be real…

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