this isn't fair
my soul
screams louder than the blizzard raging on outside

life isn't fair
i'm tired of this whole living thing
it's not a type of tired that sleep can fix

i don't want to feel ever again.

Greasy hair,
No sleep,
Forgot her glasses,
That's me

Hairs rise up
Firm with determination on a
Dry cold desert
Against the force of winter.
The frozen air compresses
My body into a stuffed dwarf
And churns my stomach with the
Utmost force I was ignorant of.

There is no place for me
In this forsaken season.
Wandering around - unsuccessful
In finding the warmth that
Can embrace my numb skin.

Prayer is the only option to
Soothe my yearning
For Spring to carry the
New wave of heat
That will breathe life into
My lonely soul.

I just want to feel something
coursing
through my veins
that isn’t blood.
I’ve grown so tired
and bored
of my flesh.
give me something
More

It's a black hole
every—time
I try too hard.

But when I don't try,
I get pushed too far.

“They” tell me I'm ok,
but am I really O/K?

How do “they”know
what I am feeling?

I have secrets
but no one needs
to carry the weight
of this.

Should I just stop?
Would quitting help me?
Would “they” notice my lying?
Would they hear my crying?

Should I turn
into the old me?

Would quitting help me?
I was so happy before...
Would returning heal me?