The truth is,
I regret every decision I make.

I worry over nothing
And everything.

My mind is overflowing
Constant fear and paranoia

I want to be included,
But I don't want

I don't want.

I don't


I don't want to be a burden.
I don't want to be annoying.

I don't want to be weird,
Or cringy
Or awkward.

I don't want to be alone.

I don't want to die.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I sometimes wonder
If you remember me at all,
Beneath your stressful days
And endless nights.

Do you remember me?

I have hidden here,
Waiting
Just for you.

Because I am you.

You are not the girl I used to know,
Not the one you used to be.
But that's okay,
I have changed too.

Have we both grown by leaps and bounds?

I wish you all the best,
But please
I beg of you.

Do not forsake me.

I don't exist.

I shouldn't have done that.

Things didn't go to plan.

And I keep thinking of you.

First, the tears.

They build up and up and up,
Never falling, not just yet.

You stop breathing.

You start gasping for air,
The poison in your lungs, your head,
Making your head spin in all directions.

And, if you try to stop,
You end up making it worse.

Calm down.
Breathe.

But in order to calm down you must write,
And to write you must calm down,
The entire paradox
Sending your head swirling.

Vision blurry,
You stop thinking clearly,
Less clear than before.

The world a huge kaleidoscope
Of sadness.

Every attempt to find what you lost
More desperate,
More unrealistic
Than the last.

Each rejection,
Each nonexistence
A greater blow
Than the last.

And suddenly,
You
Can't
Breathe
At All.

And you're crying yourself to sleep,
Trying to make up for what was lost,
To make amends.

But you know,
Deep down
You'll never be okay with it.

That loss defines you.

It's all a vicious cycle with you,
This family never seems to be enough.

All the grief you left unsaid,
All the love for the stillborn child.

No amount of sorrow,
Of anger, hate, or resentment

Will bring your beloved rose back.

I blame myself,
Knowing I may have taken some part of it,

But never for this.

You need no help in tearing us apart,
She has already done this to you.

And you are blind to what's in front of you.

I want to be real.

I want my words to feel real to someone.

I want to grasp at a little permanence,
In this small, unforgiving,
Impermanent little life.

I want my future self to be able to look back,
Intelligent and successful.

I want to be happy now, even.

If I can.

Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.

It seems I've been thinking that a lot more, nowadays.

It's feels like the darkness, whatever it is, has taken over,
And I can't even be bothered to breathe.

To fight through the pain anymore.

I don't know if I do have depression,
I've self-diagnosed far too many times.

I could be normal.

I hope so.

I want this to just be a phase,
Never anything more than a blip.

Who knows?