10.17.17

I feel like I’m searching for a high I can’t find anywhere else.
My eyes lit up at the mention of magic white powder, only to be disappointed.
My head rarely hangs in the tool yet anymore, I spend extra time rinsing vomit off of the plastic shower curtains in hopes that no one will notice.
My friends don’t listen to me. I don’t think they like me at all anymore. I’m too afraid to voice this thought because I don’t want to jinx myself more than I already do.
I don’t blame them— I don’t like myself. Will I ever?
This loneliness is a cavern I keep returning to, excavating meaninglessly. I’m surrounded by people until the very last minutes of the day, yet there’s still a hole that their comedic relief cannot fill.
I fall asleep to nothing and awake to nothing.
I send good morning texts in hopes of one day receiving it first again, but it seems that trend has gone out of style as it usually does when she grows sick of me.
I’m growing sick of me too, in perfect timing because he’s actually sick.
I need to care about myself but I can’t find reason to— why care about myself when no one else does?
I’m shouting into the void here, but the void is all I know anymore.
I listen to everyone else except myself.
Someone please listen to me, I can’t bear to.
I thought I was fine, finally for once, but I’m not sure whether that’s true anymore.