I don’t know if that’s right.
Harsh; insensitive; hardened.
But that isn’t the whole story.

I wonder if hollow is better.
Not really.
Because I’m not really empty.
There’s still a constant pain.

Hurt doesn’t work either.
There’s nothing wrong with me.
At least that people can see.
And I’m not hurt.
I’m just hurting.

But I don’t think it’s depression.
Depression is sadness.
Not hardening and hurting.
It might be empty.

So what am I?
Does such a word exist?

Maybe it’s lost.

A while back
I posted a dream.
A car accident.
Today
I almost surprised myself.
I didn’t get in one.

The whole **** world
Decided to be against me.
Just me.
Just for a couple hours.
You know what?
That *****.
Especially when you struggle
When the world isn’t against you.

But I’m not dead.
Yet.
I don’t know
If that’s good or bad.

But I know I’m worse.

I tried drugs for the first time tonight.
****.
I didn’t get high.
I also found out something.
I’m addicted to an addict.
And I love that.

Maybe I’m a decent person.
Maybe I have a good chance.
Maybe I can be something.

I never really tried to be.
Decency was expected
But I never did more than necessary.
So why now?
What changed?

Why do I care?
I think I can do this.
What if I can’t?
What if I’m not what she thinks?
I make everything up as I go.
When does that stop working?

Maybe I can do it.
Maybe it won’t stop working.

But I can’t count on it.
So what do I do?
I don’t know.
I think I need help.

Maybe I don’t.
Maybe I’ll figure it out.

I need to stop.
Stop thinking.
Stop worrying.
Stop being paranoid.
Stop working myself up.
Stop myself.

I can’t do everything.
Something has to fall through.
I just hope
It isn’t me.

But I can’t stop.
Because to stop
I have to stop being me.
And I only know one way to do that.
Stop my heart.

I don’t know anyone
Who doesn’t have one.
A lot of people
Have too many.
But behind each one
Is a story.
If you have a scar,
I’d love to hear that story.

Blood is like gasoline
In more ways than one.
Both keep us going
One for us and one for transport.
But there’s another.
Have you ever walked in
And gotten the smell of gas?
There’s two ways it happens.
Too much and it smells bad.
Wrong even.
But just enough
And it smells amazing.
It’s the same with blood.
Too much
And it’s all you can taste.
Flooding, obstructing
Overwhelming.
But just enough
And it tastes delicious.
But only when it’s just enough.