My mind won’t shut up.
Count the breaths and listens to sleepcasts
like it should.
Am I bored with being happy?
I clung to creativity as the lifeline in my desperate years
and now it sits in the corner of my room
as one of the many things that spark joy
but isn’t instantly gratifying.
Dissociating is the only push I feel to write,
So I guess I haven’t been quite out of sorts
for a bit.
I have to be up in 5 hours.
I should sleep.
I feel my heart unbonding from the things that keep me.
I don’t see the damage quite yet.
I broke the empty Pyrex bowl that held my lunch earlier.
Right before I got on the train.
Right inside my cloth lunch bag.
I was embarrassed. And i smelt of chilli.
So i tossed the whole thing in the trash-
im heading for the hills.
I’m running.
I can’t be that invested in anything and i know it.
Wide awake and it’s almost midnight.
I don’t want to be the reason I slid right
Back down that shity spiral.
In the shape of sadness.
In the shape of discontentment.
Why is disco in that word?
Go to sleep now.