tomorrow.
five hours between a hundred strangers, writing for my life.
my finals are starting, my hair is falling out, my self harm worsens and my anxiety is reaching for the stars.
tomorrow.
trying to decipher the text in front of me, that is not only black ink but letters and words, even sentences.
I need to calm down.
how do I calm down?
I am burning, crying, screaming.
I am hiding silently in my bed, knowing my body - loving as it is - provides me with enough bacteria to cough. my burning throat matches my inability to talk, to think, to see.
tomorrow.
the hours are counted, my life is not ending.
why is it not ending?
do I need it to stop?

please make it stop.

it had been a slow day
it was summer, the heat was unbearable
you were knocking on my door
I was afraid, I didn’t want to open,
I wanted to slit my wrists and bleed out in bed

„oh hello lovely“

This inhuman behavior of not knowing
where to exist
put your feet outside
never come in again
stay outside, where the danger waits
come inside, feel the warmth of your family
sit and stay, go away
nowhere to go, restless feet
where am I able to exist?

i am dying in the moonlight
suffocating in all the dust
my mother left behind