grey place

i just feel tired

tired of constantly fighting with myself

tired of second-guessing everything i say

tired of constantly fucking up

tired of this block i place between myself and others

tired of running

tired of not running

tired of fear

tired of living

tired from wanting to die, and tired of being held back.

markers-and-crayons:

the first time was a game

watch the days slip by with a passive enjoyment

secure in your monthly ritual

we were children

the second time it was desperate longing

fire licking each nerve ending as the seconds ticked by

desperate to drink my fill of you

before summer died

this third time is still water

never-ending grey fills up the horizon

it is impossible to see the colors in the sunrise

with only half a soul

i can’t sleep, but i can’t stand being awake

everywhere i look i see him but he’s nowhere near

i’m flying to pieces in a million different places from the pain

i can’t breathe but somehow my chest rises and falls

is this what dying feels like? or is this the essence of living—

raw, unbridled pain?

grey thought #425

i will not see my room again til may

i love this room

i love having the presence of my sisters next door

i love feeling my family

i love all the tiny touches that make it mine

i hate leaving it like some hotel room, and i hate coming back to the dust of a neat, unused room

its like while we are apart, i forget it

and it forgets me

i hate being forgotten

failed dreams of ballet

unworn prom dress

empty side of the bed

empty arms where a best friend should be

home that’s not home

fighting parents

grey feeling #375

wanting to be everyone’s rock when someone is trying to be yours

a quiet place for quiet thoughts where i can let things go without worrying the people i love