am I going to be doing this same goddamn thing 10 years from now.
filling a bathtub full of water, sitting on the edge fully clothed.
marred face, longing for anyone to cover me with their warmth. a hand. beating heart. the slow steady breath that comes with sleep. nothing going on. nowhere to go. same thing over and over again. and is it laziness or is it some kind of cruel fate that limits my abilities. limits my everything that i cannot be and so want to be.
i cry because i think i am ugly. i cry because i see no future and no past. i cry because there is nothing within me to extract and salvage. detestable. vile. wretched being.
and i keep thinking it's a riddle. a puzzle that can be solved. i'll figure it out. just give it time. have patience. your time will come.
and i don't know how i've lasted this long on my own.
it comes all at once. it comes in rushing waves. tsunamis. my fears, my anxieties, my loneliness and hopelessness.
it's a bad dream, and i'm 22 years old again, lying in that nest i've made in the corner of the room. sleep paralysis. this is a bright orange and brown and yellow blinding light dream and i didn't fuck it all up as bad as i've dreamt i have.
