morning after

I’m sobbing. My heart is throbbing. I’m robbing myself of a life gifted to me. Who am I? Where am I? The morning after I’m an emotional wreck. woman-with-white-pill-vertThis morning after pill I can’t bring myself to swallow. I take enough sleeping pills to help me pass this time. I pray I drift off peacefully. I feel hollow. In thirty-five years I smile for those around me. I make choices for everyone but me. My life is flipped upside down and I laugh and joke around. I’ve been back three years and ALL my boxes still packed. I can’t get ahead. I’m crumbling. I’m numbing myself to this lifeless existence. The formula I can’t figure out how to compute. Life is so hard and feel as though I’m reliving dazed and confused. The weight is so heavy my knees are buckling. I’m trying my hardest. It’s nearing Thanksgiving and I have no harvest. I’m so fucking lost on my journey. I can’t see straight and it’s ALL so blurry. You can take me now… I’m not a quitter. But, my body’s getting thinner by the day. My hair is falling out in clumps and my stress level is code red. I’m back on medication and every promise I made to myself I’m breaking. Will I ever be a happy person? Is that possible for me? I live in such a dark world. My head is pounding. My appetite is gone. I wake up to a fog and wait for it to set back in so I can fall asleep again. Fuck I was doing so good. How could I fall off so quick. I wish I had just one friend. Who knew me. Who knew who I really am. Someone I could lay down my hand and show every card. With out a word. They could see right through me. I need to write a will. I’m not going to kill myself. No need to worry. But, do I want to be here… Really? I ask myself what am I offering this world? What am I contributing? And I feel purposeless.

I live for Capone.

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