I think I might be falling into that bottomless pit again. I can't seem to let go, to relax, to stay still. And for some reasons, I keep on seeing Euphoria scenes, I hear the songs that surrounded me at my darkest. Or maybe, that wasn't it. Maybe it wasn't my darkest.
Is this how the road feels like? I seem to have forgotten. It's been so long, I'd been so strict with myself. I didn't want to go there anymore. And now, my energy is blaring red. It's low and I have no strength within to fight against this…this darkness. It's dark, too dark. I'm lost again, or almost lost. The tears are streaming down my face, salty and plenty on the top of my tongue. My face is in a grimace and I'm struggling to keep my breathing steady. I'm heaving, palm on my chest and I can't seem to discover what's wrong. What's wrong with me?
My fingers are slim, they're trembling and I'm watching them, imagining myself performing something with them. Imagining myself anywhere but here. But my brain…it's tired too. And I'm being tossed back, hard and fast, back to the darkness of my room. Stuffy and hot with the sound of silent sobs and chokes. My eyes close and more tears slip from the corners. It hurts. My chest feels like it's caving in, my eyes sting, and my throat. It's raw and hoarse.
There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing…nothing wrong with me.
I want to scream, but I don't want to wake anyone. I don't want to be asked countless questions. I don't wish for interrogations or silent gapes. So I choke on it. I push it back, cause it's better that way. My pillow is damp, soaked with a stream of my tears. There's nothing wrong with me.
I'll live. I realize I always do, terribly or fortunately so? I wasn't sure. With furrowed brows, I stare into nothingness. My mind a violent calm and my heart wrecked. What's wrong? Nothing.
It feels like a dream. Like a very horrible dream. And I'm floating, higher and closer to the sun. It's scorching the surface of my skin. I can feel the temperature going higher and higher and higher. I can't stop going up, I'm not pausing. I press my lips into a thin line to stop a scream. It hurts. I'm burning, my clothes up in flames.
I choke again. How many times now? Four? Six? Nine? I must've lost count. Is it still night? Is the sun not up yet? Why do I feel this way? Why? What's wrong? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. There's nothing wrong with me.
Thanks for reading
