If I could eat my words I would be keeling over by now.

you try to expel the poison in your head by explaining your thoughts and you can’t find the right words and it sounds like a drug ramble, exhaustion and too much caffeine. you want to scream and scream and scream with the sickened blood pouring over dry lips.

you feel alone, no matter who is with you. you are never present anymore, you are separate and wandering and afraid, you sing pink floyd under your breath and try to find meaning in anything that you are writing down (in blue glitter pen, scratched and wild) and listening to but everything is a mess of glitter and distraction.

you want to walk until your surroundings are not familiar, until you are unrecognizable to everyone, but most of all, yourself. you beg, & no one gives you what you want. you just want something that has meaning, something to hang onto, and you wonder if there is anything left in the world.

you light your cigarette. it’s better not to think about anything.