Apr 2017
Didn't really expect another one so soon? Neither did I. But it turns out that once you start walking in the gardens of death, the scent of the flowers there is overpowering. Poppy fields, blood red, sweet sleep- addicting. Your nose keeps leading you in circles even when your head warns you to watch your step.
I wish I could say this was for real. But the problem is, we all know me by now. I'm never actually going to, and that makes it hard for people to care.
"There she goes, the one always bothering us about her nonsense. Why won't she give this up already?"
I'm still trudging through my life sentence, chains on my ankles, family and friends on my wrists. It's hard for them to understand. To them, it's all "**** yourself already" or "join the rest of society." It's a waste of everyone's time otherwise.
I've become the girl who cries wolf, and everyone including me knows she's always sounding a false alarm. But god, I can't help but cry sometimes, can I? It hurts, it hurts. I bite my lips to keep from falling down the stairs.
The scent of poppies clouds around my head.
I can't help but wonder if everything I do is somehow goodbye. If maybe I'll get run over by a car on the 40 minute walk home. Or maybe I'll finally lose myself so far in this cloud of flowers that I test out the surest way to die. Just in case, I'm trying to build a pile of memories of me. Just in case one day someone needs to fill up a girl-sized space in the world. Just in case.
It's just that, no matter how grand this world seems, there's only so much to do here. There's only a few categories of gifts you can buy for people, a few types of jobs you can do. The days play on repeat, always purposeless, always fatal. And I'm trying to color them all with sunbeams and starshine, but I'm weary. One day, I don't think the lights will be warm enough. One day, I think I'm going to give up.
But not today. Today, I force my eyes open, and I watch my step. I will not stumble into a final rest among these sweet, soft flowers, lovely as it sounds.
I will not give up today.
I wish I could say this was for real. But the problem is, we all know me by now. I'm never actually going to, and that makes it hard for people to care.
"There she goes, the one always bothering us about her nonsense. Why won't she give this up already?"
I'm still trudging through my life sentence, chains on my ankles, family and friends on my wrists. It's hard for them to understand. To them, it's all "**** yourself already" or "join the rest of society." It's a waste of everyone's time otherwise.
I've become the girl who cries wolf, and everyone including me knows she's always sounding a false alarm. But god, I can't help but cry sometimes, can I? It hurts, it hurts. I bite my lips to keep from falling down the stairs.
The scent of poppies clouds around my head.
I can't help but wonder if everything I do is somehow goodbye. If maybe I'll get run over by a car on the 40 minute walk home. Or maybe I'll finally lose myself so far in this cloud of flowers that I test out the surest way to die. Just in case, I'm trying to build a pile of memories of me. Just in case one day someone needs to fill up a girl-sized space in the world. Just in case.
It's just that, no matter how grand this world seems, there's only so much to do here. There's only a few categories of gifts you can buy for people, a few types of jobs you can do. The days play on repeat, always purposeless, always fatal. And I'm trying to color them all with sunbeams and starshine, but I'm weary. One day, I don't think the lights will be warm enough. One day, I think I'm going to give up.
But not today. Today, I force my eyes open, and I watch my step. I will not stumble into a final rest among these sweet, soft flowers, lovely as it sounds.
I will not give up today.
If you read all the way through that, thank you :)
