theres nothing like the bitter sting
of things colliding between
the days get harder
and the breaths become shorter

the sadness fills voids I've had since I was born and I cannot fathom what happiness is. I don't know how to be okay and im questioning if I ever even knew how to function. as im sitting in my bed questioning the universe's sick joke called my life, I wonder if the little things in life will ever be enough. im crashing like a car without a driver, my body is void of direction and purpose. I don't know how to breathe somedays and somedays I breathe too much I get hiccups full of regret. I look at old pictures full of addiction and empty smiles and wonder if being eight months clean means being eight months void of happiness. I wonder how long it will take for me to be okay