tired.

tired.
always tired.
my mind is a black hole
you can’t escape
the darkness
it’s everywhere,
engulfing me
engulfing everything i used to love.

Untitled (a short personal essay)

I wonder if I’m not happy because I don’t know how. I don’t remember the last time i was really, truly happy, but I can clearly remember the times I’ve spent crying in bed at 2 am.

I tend to break apart when I’m alone, in the dark, like my weakness is a shameful secret. No matter what I’m doing or where I’m going, I carry darkness with me like an old friend. I can’t let go.

Sometimes I wonder why I’ve been hurt so many times, and sometimes I think I know. I’m scared of being alone. Yet somehow, the times I’ve felt the most alone are the times I’ve spent with friends, having fun. It scares me in that moment, how life feels so perfect right then, because I know it’ll all end, and soon I’ll be alone again. It always ends.

I remember being eight years old and writing in my diary at school: “I wish I could start life over. I would do it right this time.” I’ve always felt a deep sense of anguish inside of me: is it who I am, or who I grew to be?

Untitled. 11.16.17

I'm drowning

swimming in a sea of insecurities and expectations and doubt

when the tide took me in 

and won't let go

I scream and scream

but no one is listening

and I lay here

alone, dying 

(we're all dying)

I can hardly breathe

the waves envelope me

nothing--

can save me. 

I'll never be. 

never be happy

I'm alone.

It's Been A Long Year 10.21.17

They poured on me exceptions

like honey into tea

but if you put too much

the tea gets bitter

as have I

I DON'T LIKE THIS 9.22.17

I have a monster inside of me.

I feed him with hatred. 

He rots my insides, until my heart is the color of charcoal. 

As my hair gets longer, my smile gets wider, as I get a new best friend,

He lays there, sandwiched between my lungs, dormant and waiting. 

stains 8.6.17

a blood stained shirt,

drip

drip

dripping

on the chair it is thrown on top of 

like a messy throne

i throw it in the laundry, 

layer cleaning product after product

but the stain stays, as ruby red as the day it fell

people tell me, “have you tried using vinegar?”

“have you tried soaking it in club soda?”

but what works for you did not work for me.

years pass and deep in a forgotten drawer, 

in a forgotten corner of the garage no one visits anymore

lays the shirt, with a stain

as ruby red as the day it fell

such are the stains in my own brain,

the thoughts and emotions of days long gone,

lost and forgotten until they are called upon again

but even time can’t take out the stain, and they remain, 

as ruby red as the day they fell.

a letter to my future self

do you ever wonder what you will think of today

in forty, fifty, sixty years,
when your hair is white, your mind is wise,
and your hands are a testament of time?
what will your old, graying self think
of things you think you can't live without?
did the doctor's visits work, is sushi still my favorite food, do you still watch
          reality tv like it's a religion?
are you proud? proud i was strong enough?
if nothing remains the same, if my outward appearance changes and i get a
          new dog and paint the walls of my bedroom----
          i can love, and laugh, and graduate, and live----
do you think about that seemingly simple fact and smile?
smile because i have a life to live now----
smile because you have lived it?