i just—
i didn’t know who else to call.
i keep opening my contacts
like people become softer after midnight,
like maybe if the world is quiet enough
someone will finally hear me correctly.
it’s stupid,
because i already know
you’re not gonna answer.
but i still wait through the entire voicemail beep
every single time,
like hope is a habit
instead of a feeling.
so here i am,
talking to a machine again.
my room smells like cold air
and old perfume
and the inside of my head feels
like a house after a fire.
everything still standing,
just ruined.
i think something is wrong with me.
not in the dramatic movie way,
not in the pretty poetry way,
just in the quiet way.
the way dishes rot in your room.
the way messages stay unanswered.
the way you start apologizing
before you even speak.
i don’t want to die.
i just want
everything inside me
to stop being so loud.
today i laughed at something
i didn’t even find funny
because everybody else was laughing
and i think that was the moment
i realized
i haven’t felt real in weeks.
i cleaned my room today.
made my bed.
watered the plants.
looked functional enough
that nobody would ask questions.
you’d be proud of me for that,
i think.
or maybe you’d just say
“i’m sorry things are hard right now”
in that careful voice people use
when they don’t know what to do with you anymore.
i can hear the silence changing.
i just called because
i needed somebody
to hear this version of me
before i swallowed her whole again.
you don’t have to call back.
stormborns
kaledo-art
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
izzy806
areudirty
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
