hopelessness
a poison infecting my system
rendering me paralysed
the world around me
mirroring the darkness of my mind
i look forward to nothing
all i see ahead of me
is an opaque abyss
and i fall
uncaring
unmoving.

addiction is not so taboo as it seems
it is rampant and spreading
seeping under the floorboards, dampening the wallpaper
blind to the pain your not eating does to your body
blind to the effect your constant purging has on your best friend
blind to your mother's secret tears as she sees the fresh scars you promised were gone
blind to the fact that he does not love you
but to all you are unwilling to see
because you are unwilling to accept.

he drinks into oblivion
stumbles home drunk
hate slipping off his tongue like the alcohol that so easily flowed past it before
insults crashing into the ears that are so used to it, numb to it
his needle sharp words tearing into the scarred flesh of his beloveds' minds
pushing and pushing until the point of no return
gone

i told you
released the burning words that had been trapped in my fiery mind for weeks on end and i watched them disintegrate in the cold night air between us
and you looked away
silent

fourth day without prozac and i can feel the ancient thoughts of 'pre-medication' time settling themselves back into the holes they chewed out of my brain.
writing this about myself makes me feel selfish. a part of me is telling myself that i am me and all i am is Me meaning my thoughts consist mostly of me but the part of me that had moved back in after being evicted is shouting
'selfish, self absorbed'
and I am confused
because if i am being Me- and me being my thoughts- is selfish
does that mean that I am selfish? Therefore, I am unworthy? Of what, the dusty thoughts are shaking themselves and reminding me exactly what it is i am not worth and i begin to feel ill because it has been so long and now all these first person pronouns are making me (again) feel conflicted i have to use them in order to write my thoughts but my thoughts are telling me not to and i am confused i do not want to be ME i feel as if i'm going mad and i want to dissociate completely but i hate it but i also dont and these stupid pronouns are something so simple yet they are making me lose control and i hate myself why cant I control Myself
I Me Myself My
Selfish.

the first time we met

i was drunk
and you were high

anxiety was present, the alcohol just handing the internal slander a megaphone

i may have cried but
your soft hands,
despite how they shook,
carressing the skin of my neck
and your gentle voice,
despite how it cracked,
grazing my ear was enough to calm my racing heart

and we kissed

and a sense of relief rained down on my being

for me, it was love