October 18, 2018 5:09 PM
I’ve eaten more pills this week than meals
an unintentional version of self destruction.
My windows are open in the tornado of my mind and debris is scattered in my skull.
Lost in the wreckage of my limbs and life I’m losing my will to walk any further.
I’ve become a resident in illness: overly familiar with the territory.
Yet I wander every single day lacking a clue for where to turn next.
Clustered into bones and flesh is my human mess
Not contained to my head the current runs red to my chest and I’m bleeding out of my rib cage.
A cage that could not withhold the pressure of a thousand screams never let go.
Now I’m tattered in the aftermath of a bad year and one can’t fathom materials to fix my wounds.
I lie here on the floor: hoping the dripping faucet of optimism will refill me soon.

-newportsmooths h.g.