3AM is not the best time to write, but I’m out of pills and things to distract me. I’m letting the sound of my keyboard keep me company while I wait for everything to finally end.

I hate myself. I hate everything about me. I hate my stupid hair and how I play with it so much, as if I could ever get it to look good, when I’m such an ugly monster. I hate my stupid laugh, because it’s loud and comes at the worst of times because I have … Continue reading 3AM is not the best time to write, but I’m out of pills and things to distract me. I’m letting the sound of my keyboard keep me company while I wait for everything to finally end.

I know the right steps to take, and spending a week in the hospital because I downed to many prescription pills is not one of those steps. So why did I just do that?

Why would things have to turn out like this, huh? Can anyone give me an answer that would calm me down, turn my radical sense of self-loathing into a more calm, rational sense of mild self-hatred? I am aware; I am a creature of habit. I fall into the holes of life not because of … Continue reading I know the right steps to take, and spending a week in the hospital because I downed to many prescription pills is not one of those steps. So why did I just do that?

It’s not that I dislike silence, but sometimes I wish I still had the strength left to scream.

Sound is so light, breathing like a morning cast in fog Hold your breath now and wait for the fall All along the sweet castaway, sweet darling of mine Watched ever so quiet in the back of my mind   Sound is so soft, breathing like a mouse in the walls Hold your breath now … Continue reading It’s not that I dislike silence, but sometimes I wish I still had the strength left to scream.

Every day I feel it, and it hurts, but never enough…I never feel like I’m hurting enough.

Do you want to know what it feels like? To be sitting in a waiting room of a planned parenthood, knowing that only a door away lies your girlfriend who is begging for the pain meds to numb her emotions as thoroughly as they have her body? For starters it makes you feel useless. You … Continue reading Every day I feel it, and it hurts, but never enough…I never feel like I’m hurting enough.

When I was a kid I hated going to bed; it felt like if I was sleeping I was missing out on life. 20 some years later? I’m fighting my way towards never having to wake up again.

I had a dream last night, and you were in it. I was talking to you, just like we are talking right now. And I said some things. Not important things. Every day, hey how ya doin type things. I said those things, and then you were gone. I said those things without really saying … Continue reading When I was a kid I hated going to bed; it felt like if I was sleeping I was missing out on life. 20 some years later? I’m fighting my way towards never having to wake up again.

It’s dark before 6, and these blinds block all light from the streetlights below, but I’m still holding onto the edge, buoyed by this tiny light slipping out from my lampshade.

Slip past the guards, the listless bodies thrown haphazardly across any surface this apartment can provide. Open the gates, mindful of the squeaking hinges, remaining a shadow until the door is in the past. Do not linger, for that is how regrets are formed, and you have no strength left to fight another losing battle. … Continue reading It’s dark before 6, and these blinds block all light from the streetlights below, but I’m still holding onto the edge, buoyed by this tiny light slipping out from my lampshade.

I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

The excuses are all gone, replaced with a very real, grounded reason to reach the bottom of this bottle. I’m halfway in, but I tend to only do things half-assed, so let’s see if I can break that habit tonight.

I realize, of course, what these decisions I have made over the past few years have lead me towards; a slothful life full of wasted moments that have somehow become wasted years, turning this mind into mush and these years into a wasted life, a wasted potential, a waste of a waste, truly God’s ideal … Continue reading The excuses are all gone, replaced with a very real, grounded reason to reach the bottom of this bottle. I’m halfway in, but I tend to only do things half-assed, so let’s see if I can break that habit tonight.