There are certain things you can’t question in life
Like why you are loved
Even when you feel you don’t deserve it
Why you have a beautiful home and good job you worked hard for
Yet feel like you didn’t work hard enough
Why friends hold your hand and hug you on days you feel like you should be left behind
Why you continue to push and survive
After your mind has fought it almost every day
To end the pain that rumbles not only under your temples
But in your heart as it bleeds dry
Why you still smile, with all the torture you’ve faced
Why you continue to laugh after you’ve lost your voice to stand up for yourself
Why you are still here in spite of what you’ve attempted.
There’s a reason and millions of answers
You may never get the answers you want, but know not to question it
It’ll just take time away from you going and living the life you’ve been given
Go and live and love

Oh little bug in the sink,
You can’t swim,
You just crawl and explore,
You question, why am I in the sink?

I saw the bug in the sink,
As I brushed my teeth,
I noticed him scampering about,
Wondering — how do I get out of the sink?

You weren’t hurting me, bug in the sink,
You just wanted an escape,
Away from the dangers of the water,
A bad place to be if you can’t swim - bug in the sink.

But when I saw the bug in the sink,
I acted only on impulse,
The contrast between “*****” bug and “cleaning teeth”
Was too much to bare, as I stared in the sink.

And so without thinking of the bug in the sink,
My reflexes thrusted me forward,
I thought only of myself,
As I turned the **** on the sink.

Oh no — oh bug in the sink,
The water is gushing,
You’re overwhelmed, swept away, crushed.
Oh bug in the sink. Why did I not think?

Why do we like what's bad for us?
Why are we drawn to it?
Why do we obsess?
Why do we become addicted to people or things?
Why do we need them like oxygen?
.
.
.
.....just.....
.
.
.
Why?

It feels like I've been away for too long.
It hasn't even been that long but yet life goes on, and so do you.
It hurts. It hurts knowing that things we used to do, now seem insignificant because time has altered them.

Picking at every memory we ever had that made me happy, and making them about my insecurities is exhausting.
Are they insecurities? Or is it just another proof of what society wants us to do?
Questioning ourselves to the point where we even question if anybody else will ever love us?

Is it bad that I need your arms to be my blanket to keep me warm through December?
Am I needy if I want your breath on my neck to be
the live giver to my butterflies in my body?
Why should we run if our legs are numb?
How do I finish if the lines doesn't even exist?
If honey can be sweet, why shouldn't we?

5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?