i started to realize
that i didn't want the diagnosis
because i wanted to get better
i wanted the diagnosis because i wanted to be drugged up
to finally feel good, or to fade into nothing
my own sweet little oblivion
because if i just slept,
and didn't wake up, it wouldn't bother anyone

i've thought about a coma
how it might be my way out
to be unconscious for so long
to not wake up for months
maybe that would help me
just wait until everything is normal
until i'm normal

i've thought about taking the type of drugs that make you forget
the kind that makes it all go away
like that one SSRI i had
i woke up, and couldn't remember yesterday
or the last month
it felt good
until i had to write it all down
just so i didn't forget what i was doing

then i keep thinking nothing's wrong
that it's really just something wrong with me
that i've been lying to myself
that's what my mom says
and then my friends say to look into it
and my head is scrambling to pick up the pieces
of late night internet searches,
desperately trying to find some label to whats in my head
and only coming to the conclusion that it really isn't real

maybe i'm not real
and that's why i can never figure it out
maybe that's why my hands feel numb,
and all of the songs i listen to seem to rearrange themselves in my head
into words i don't want to hear anymore
maybe that's why there are some parts of me
i'd like to get rid
just to feel the weight of existence get off me