i want to talk about it.
i want to be able to talk about it,
i want to stop my insides from turning every time i think about it.

i try to wash it off my hands, off my tongue, off my mind.
but it's there,
it's always there.

and it haunts my dreams.
i can taste the ashes of the fires which used to burn inside me.
i can feel them burning my insides.

only, they don't burn with confidence, excitement,
grace.
they burn with hatred and anger, all directed at myself.

it is the only thing i can feel lately.
it's kind of comforting, in a very disturbing way.
it's like killing myself without even trying.

like the universe wants this to be over,
even more so
than i do.