never been happier
to be home
never been more miserable
to be home
throw
my bags of crap
material possessions
kick
the eternal
mess
that is my room
that is me
make a path
to my bed
lonely
twin bed
one
pillow
one
blanket
not much
but enough

enough to hold me while I cry
my blanket wraps her arms
around me
my pillow
lets me vent
I will pretend they are my friends
I have
no
friends

the ones
who would be the closest
thing to a friend
I have
do not answer the call.
do not answer the message.
it's okay, 'cause
I isolate myself
from them anyways
do not answer their calls.
do not answer their messages.
if I had any
remainder of myself
left in me
I would laugh
because
my bed is my only friend
and I am my worst enemy

writing.
write
down
the pain
devastation
realization
that this is what life is
it at least
feels like I am talking
to someone.
maybe
no one
but I am venting.

my tears
are sulfuric acid
they have melted my skin,
who I am.
right
through
the bone
scar tissue
weak tissue
tissue that will break again
I am no longer myself
I am the remainder
of what is left.
ugly
wrinkled
mess
unrecognizable
as human
I am not real
I am not a person
at all
just the
acid tear drops
that fall
and the scars
they have left