Move on.

I want a boy to take silly mypace pictures with again

someone who will knock me off my feet

and out of this comatose state I’ve cut

myself into. I am no longer looking like I used to.

The whole idea of love seems dreadfully lost.

 

Today I was presented with the fact that I could lose my job.

My first reaction –

                “well with out this here to keep me.....”

not fear because our economy is s**t

and another job might be hard to find.

not tension or anything...

just an odd peace. Because with out

my dumb retail job, at the end of this

semester I could disappear.

Go anywhere. Be anyone.

All that is holding me here

is slipping through my fingers anyway.

 

 

Imogen Heap is playing loudly from

my computer speakers, and the numbness

that I’ve been fighting with all month

is growing stronger. Knotting, contorting in the

center of my chest. Nothing is getting past

here, making any impact.

I am preparing to start being drastic.

Because feeling anything, no matter what,

has to be better than this.

The only things making it through

are sadness. Loneliness and heartache

 

 

I would like to find a restart button please.

 

 

And with all of this rushing, pounding

in my head. I have to think about how

I am going to wake up again tomorrow.

I’d like to wear short sleeves again soon,

but it doesn’t seem likely.

 

Something has to change soon.

Because at this rate, even if I survive

I’ll be dead on the inside.

I am terrified. Exhausted and running

quickly on empty. Losing weight because

nothing stays down. A constant

nervousness that gnaws at my

heart all hours of the night.

 

Nothing left to sacrifice but myself.