I can't cope with reality.
and it's getting bad.
really bad.
I don't do my homework
I don't do my chores
or play with the dog
or hardly even stay online anymore.
I go to school and I zone out
in a dead depression.
my whole body weighing a thousand pounds
at having to be alive.
I come home and I sit in an almost-asleep-like state,
and if it's not that then it's a full sleep and I sleep till five am
and take a slow
scorching hot shower
and go to school and press repeat.

It's worse than before,
with the ever looming tragedy of adulthood closing in
and my low grades
and my illnses
and existing for my 17th year.
17 years... too long.

I can't cope with reality,
if my odd aloof ways
and ugly blank face were not enough of a hint.

I can't get a job because I'm too inept
and it's all too hard for me
and scary
and I've written that it's scary and hard
a million times
but I can't help but repeat that
like I repeat my schedule
and jokes
and lies and truths
and clothes
and bland routine
i just repeat that because it's so true
and nobody seems to understand
that when I say that being alive is hard,
I really mean it.
I mean it from the core to the stars
from my bones to ashes
from every comparison you can think of
being alive is hard,
it's always been hard
and it's getting harder and harder
and I can't cope
and all this sleeping
trying to hide in my dreams
it's not enough
there's not enough hours in the day to sleep
and dream
and run
that's all I want to do is run
run far away from thsi world.
and I'm panicking
every moment of every day
it never ends
I'm getting overwhelmed
and I'm going to burst
and if a knife is in my hand when it happens
so be it.
because death is just another word for a long sleep,
and when I think about sleeping for an eternity,
it brings tears to my eyes with how good it sounds.
really good.
the best.