There are moments when I let go.
My words become unhinged and I do not worry about what I say or how little I say.
I do not curl up into myself wishing to disappear.
I speak and I do not regret, time does not seem to exist anymore and I am free, I am alive, I am living, I do not fear; I truly exist.

I have an unanswered message.
Actually, not just one, the number has been growing these days.
I am the proud yet hurt owner of an empty inbox.
If I were to have a message I know it is just spam.
I never check, I stopped having hope years ago.
As friends left I knew it was futile to expect a message.
After all I became just another second thought.
In the furthest corners of the few people minds, I reign there.
But sometimes I manage to have a few seconds of glory and I receive a message.
I answer back, immediately with excitement.
I wait and I wait and I wait.
As months pass I know, it will always remain another unanswered message.

It happened again.
The coward in me prevailed again.
The strength I acted like I had doesn't actually exist, it was just another figment of my imagination.
How many times will I abandon others in order to protect myself?
I cannot stand the thought of being abandoned so I leave selfishly.
I cut all ties off first.
It starts with words without any meaning.
It then begins to turn into awkward silences that never get filled.
Days turn into weeks.
Weeks turn into months.
Years turn into where did it all go wrong?

Girls like me aren't meant to be loved, they're meant to be left alone to rot in their worthlessness.
I have never tasted the sweet saccharine of love only the bitterness of tolerance turned into hate.
I hug you then flinch away if you move towards me.
I just love the feeling of fresh fear when you're learning how to steel yourself from their passion filled blows.
It's never a dull day with girls like me.
I scream and cry so much it becomes a pitiful spectacle, dull eyes that never see the light of day as bright as before.
As I smile I hide all the hidden hatred and ***** once you leave, my claws come out and I become a green eyed monster.
Girls like me don't have friends just acquaintances that hate me a little less than the average person.
If you promise me the world I'll get selfish and yell when you don't give me the entire galaxy.
I'm so clingy I become your second skin that you scratch off because it's so bothersome.
But in exchange I keep you at an arms length and leave you guessing why my eyes are so bloodshot.
Stay far away from girls like me, because miserable girls like me just love destroying lives.

Last night, I had a dream I was in a car about to fall off the edge.
I was terrified and didn't know what to do.
Everything felt out of my hands as I sat there and waited in pained anticipation for my demise.
As the car fell I didn't fight it.
I was languid and didn't move to save my own life.
All I felt was relief.
Finally, it would be over soon.
My terror was overridden with acquiescence, I didn't ever have to face another tomorrow.
It was ending, I was ending.
The abyss swallowed me up and I accepted it with a rueful smile.
But I ended up waking up just as I felt myself falling into the oblivion.
I came to my senses and realized I was alive, another day I was here for another day.
Maybe another day to fight was just what I needed.
Tomorrow; another day is never promised.

"If you start, it will get easier."
Words that I always tell myself as the hour's flow by in a promising light that gradually dims into complete darkness.
My eyes are always drawn to the clock and as each second passes my heart withers in dread.
I didn't realize how fast the time had gone by.
Last time I had checked the sun was still high up in the sky just like my expectations.
As I glance at the obligations I failed to accomplish I can only feel numb.
All my panic disappeared and in place left a hollow shell too spineless to stand on its own.
Just when I had expectations in myself I let myself down again.
A waste of a day.
A waste of a week.
A waste of a month.
A complete waste of a life.

Can I take a day?
I just can't do it, is that enough of an exuse?
I couldn't get up this morning because I felt like vomiting from the simple thought of interacting with others, is that even an exuse?
Is it ridiculous that I cried myself to sleep last night and couldn't get any sleep because of memories and moments that have been long gone for years?
I don't even know how I remembered those certain moments because I'm pretty sure everyone else forgot about that little insignificant slip up I am too cowardly to let go.
If my fingers shake from picking up the phone in order to make a phone call to call out, am I making a big deal out of what other people do so easily?
Is it odd the way I bite my nails in fear of social interactions or upcoming deadlines?
I wouldn't have to fear that deadline if I had just done my work on time but I'm left with extra mounds of work to finish because I got distracted and disheartened from finishing something so easy.
Did you know I lie awake looking at my wrists and wondering what it would be like to cut just one little line?
I swear it will be just one time I wouldn't want everyone to know I actually meant those suicidal jokes, that would just ruin the punchline don't you think?
Even if I feel not up to doing anything, does it matter?
Excuse me for being sensitive.
I apologize for not being like everyone else who has their life together.
I apologize for being such a disappointment to my family.
From the way I burned through books I bet they thought I was going somewhere, preferably harvard of course.
It didn't matter how lonely I was, the lack of friends meant that I wasn't out doing meaningless stuff like forming a connection with other people.
Oh dear me, I was the teachers pet in middle school every adult loved me.
They had high expectations for me.
It didn't matter that I was isolated and considered the oddball.
They thought I was a genius.
Their approval was the only thing that was relevant about me.
Imagine the surprise it was that I didn't get straight A's.
Harvard never sent me an email of acceptance.
I was simply anxiety ridden me.
What a disappointment, they expected me to go to some prestigious university and discover the cure to some fatal illness.
I was supposed to go places.
I am deeply sorry, if I cry could I be excused?
So considering all of that and so much more, can I take a day?