My dearest Jocelyn,

The very thoughts of you make me Homesick.
It's just as beautiful as miserable it sounds.

Waking up to a heavy chest
My body begging me to sleep again
And my anxiety begins the second I realize I'm alive
I'm trying to learn to function
With all of this negative energy inside me
I know it'll pass and
I know it'll get better
But right now it hurts
I feel unloved
Unloveable
I feel lost inside myself
A place I can't stay too long
Before I lose my mind
I can tell myself I'm worth it and
That my worth isn't defined by others
And it works for a bit
Until something else comes up and
My heart loses its energy
And I either feel like giving up
Or ready to fight everyone

but eventually, all the metaphors fall apart
and come to nothing
like paper dissolving in water
fanciful words dissolving with it
and without romanticized phrases
and rose-tinted writings
there is only unembellished truth

what are you to do
when you're walking down a hall
gray walls, gray floor, gray ceiling
no texture at all

the hall is long
like one of those assignments they make you do
in your highschool art class
where you draw two lines
that start with some distance between them
but as you drag your pencil across the paper
you angle the lines inward towards one another
maybe to create a road or
a hallway with checkered floors
and doors that you never angle quite right

but my hallway
is just... gray
and drawn out, it seems that the hall never stops
all i can think
all i can feel right now
is that i'll drag my feet step by step
through this bland bland hallway
and when i reach the end of the drawing
the illusion that it continues
i'll just leap off the paper

im so alone
i am so
alone