this was a daily response almost a month and a half ago. I usually write poetry – because I never trust my prose. it’s always random thoughts that never seem good enough to post. but right now I just need to write. to speak. to get it out.
lately I’ve been feeling like I’m going through life simply surviving. I don’t feel like I’m living, and it’s not something new to me but it’s something I haven’t felt in a while. I need something to keep me going and I can’t find it. I’ve grown in so many ways, I’m blessed in so many ways, and I’m trying in so many ways.. but there’s something missing that’s keeping me from truly living and I can’t place it.
I’m breaking again. and right now I really don’t know what else to say. I feel guilty for breaking down when my life really isn’t that bad, but I can’t just push my depression under the rug. I can’t just ignore the fact that I’m physically hurting myself, or crying myself to sleep every night, or drinking to excess just so I won’t feel. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel alone and destroyed, insecure and unsure.
where do I go from here?
you know, each day I think things get better. but
then at night I feel it in my bones, in my mind and in
my soul. I don’t know what’s wrong.
is it me? is it something I did? is it something I said?
is it something I didn’t?
I’m lonely and aching for company –
but it feels like no one aches for mine. how do I fix this?
the only thing I want to do is paint red stains on my skin
that will turn into beautiful lines
that will never fade. but
they’re not beautiful. they make me sad every day.
and it’s a battle to not make more but I don’t know what else to do.
how do you keep on going when it feels like no one is rooting for you?
I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. my eyes are heavy
with unshed tears. wrists
covered in ink because
I don’t have the energy
to break up a razor. I’m FAILING
a class and I can’t
make myself get my shit
together. I keep thinking
about that bridge –
out there in the distance with
the one flickering light
shining on the marks
where my hands once pressed down,
sweating in anticipation
that bridge exists somewhere.
right now it’s in the back of
my mind, and I worry
that one day I’ll find it, and no
one will notice until it’s
it’s difficult, being here, thousands of miles away from you, across an ocean full of the memories we didn’t have time to create.
we’re both lucky, blessed to be where we are and going where we’re going,
but it all seems pointless without the thing that everyone spends their life searching for –
what we found those last few weeks before we traveled different ways for a year.
it’s been six months and it feels like eternity and the worst part is not hearing from you,
not knowing what runs through your mind and what keeps you going,
what distracts you when you’re sad and if you ever think about me.
dream of me. miss me.
a few messages here and there isn’t enough, and the next eight, nine, ten months seem impossible
and i don’t know what to do. so
do you think about me like i think about you?