I’m angry
I’m angry that once again I let a situation escalate to the point where I can’t catch my breath
I’m angry that the bottle of white wine sitting on my nightstand looks more appealing than life itself
I’m angry
I’m angry that I have no idea what truly is wrong with me
What really lies beneath my clouded mind
Where are its roots planted
Where the **** is this coming from
Why am I so ******* sad
Why don’t I have the strength to scream for help anymore
Why is this comforting
Why is this feeling of hopelessness the father I never had
Why can I feel it’s warmth surrounding me and enveloping and caressing me and loving me because lord knows I can’t help myself
Why is this comforting
Crying and screaming into my pillow until I turn blue
Feeling my hands aggressively grasping my throat
Like a game
To see how long I last before turning red
Then blue
Then purple
Why is this comforting
Asking my brother for an old pencil sharpener
Forcefully removing its blade
And inflicting every ounce of pain I feel onto my skin
Until blood is no longer scary
Until the sting and opened wound just becomes
Comforting  
Why is this comforting
Feeling so desperate you start believing in God again
Hoping you’re not alone
Praying this isn’t what life is about
Why is this comforting
Feeling everything
Or feeling nothing at all
It’s all or nothing in this world
But that you already knew
You already knew that no matter how hard I tried to show you
No matter how many times I’ve given you my lenses
On how a poor soul views the world
How concerning my feelings can become
And how dark they will lie
You failed to treat me
How you would treat a porcelain doll