"What's wrong?" She asks. Spoken simply, for its a simple thing to say. I didn't get much sleep last night. My brain was putting up a fight. Tossing and turning for hours on end, pretending to be unaware of the sun peaking over the horizon.
I haven't had much of an appetite. Sure I attempt to eat what I'm able, but it never sits well. I may ***** it up but time will tell.
My thoughts move too fast, sometimes I forget when to laugh. It's hard to know how much is real cuz everyone thinks it's an act. But it's real, everything I feel in my head and my heart, and the whispers and the shouts, reality fading and freaking me out.
I don't think I can cope with all of my madness, i lay gasping for breath, with feelings of death clutching my chest. I'm not sure how much time I have left.
I haven't left my room in a week, my body feels weak, I can barely stand on my feet. Maybe it's from too little to eat or not enough sleep. Sometimes I will my heart not to beat. So many thoughts fill up my head that I realize I forgot to speak.
"Nothing, I'm fine" I manage the squeak.
