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This Again
To say I’m scared would be a lie.
Being scared implies some
Type of hope.
Hope that it wasn’t suppose
To be this way.
You can’t be afraid
When you have no hope.
You just accept
These things that drag
You down.
I’m not going to say I’m numb.
I won’t have to,
My actions might,
My lack of thought might,
My existence certainly will.
I’m drinking again.
Not with any other purpose
But to hurt myself.
I’m romanticizing pain again.
Not with any other purpose
But to feel something.
I’m oversleeping again.
Not with any other purpose
But to escape being awake.
I still think of last winter.
How everyday was a blur,
How I kept promising myself
To go one more day.
What if that is happening again?
What if I find myself giving in?
What if I was wrong to
Hold on this long?
