I hate being right about things
that I don’t want to be right about

Shame on me.
Guess I should’ve known better than to hope.

I’ve spent 6 years waiting,
lost and confused,
stumbling my way through the dark.
Slipping rocks into my pockets to weigh myself down.

Thought about giving up reaching the surface too many times to count.

I’ve finally been handed a flashlight.
I’m going to find my way out of here.

And of course, I might get lost on the way.
The flashlight might burn out.
But I’m not going to back down anymore.

It’s time to recover.

Don’t dwell on it.

Be free.

I love you guys.

I don’t even know how to write anymore.

I used to swim in this ocean of words and ideas.
Now it’s just sand.
Slipping through my fingers.

“  Don’t ask me how I’ve been
unless you’re prepared.

Truth is, I haven’t been great, but that’s
predictable.   “

I’m not even looking at her anymore.
Just staring at the ceiling, this deadpan expression carved into my stone face.

She asks me if I need anything.

I just laugh.
Bitter, cruel.
This is past the breaking point.

“  No, no.
It’s too late.

You’re too late.  “

The fact was, I didn’t want to because I was afraid of addiction.

But then I had this thought—
1. if you do it right, it’ll only be once so you won’t have to worry about that.

That’s how it all starts, right?

2. Just this once,
you swear it to yourself,
only one time.


Except we all know it’s never just once.


3. You don’t even want to, but at this point it’s become more sort of a, “Why not?”.

4. Staggered footsteps and a headache later, you forget your feelings.
Regret doesn’t matter when you’re too busy giggling at the spinning ceiling about nothing.


5. But then you crash.

And you’re tired.
You’re so ******* tired.


6. Rinse and repeat.

Why?

It’s not fair.
How could they do that?

I’m sick of being hated for existing.

Why do they hate me so much?
What did I do?
It’s not my fault.
I can’t do anything.

Why?

I could have saved her.
I failed.
Please forgive me.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.