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im so tired/when life gives you lots of lemons but it’s too much/when life is good but you are trash

i pull myself apart every couple of weeks
if im lucky it will take a couple of months
it is not beautiful or romantic
i cant wish it away with a hot chocolate and my favourite tv show
although that would be a nice change
rather
it is dirty and disgusting
and gut wrenching
it’s the messy room with old cups of coffee
and sinks piled with last weeks dinner plates
it’s the pizza from two nights before for breakfast
it’s the long to do lists that are left untouched on the fridge
and the lying in your bed with unwashed sheets
i pull at each string of my being
not slowly and carefully either
it is quick and devastating
and im left in awe
no
i am left in denial and pain and wishing i was never born-isms
with my sanity laying about me
scattered on the ground like litter after a concert
wondering how someone as amazingly blessed as me
became this way
anxious and sad and sorry and apathetic
i feel like a wound bleeding every day
and healing every night
only to realise the next morning
i had scratched it over and over while in my dreams
i am tired
i am a loss
and i feel less than human
but at the same time relentlessly and scathingly human
i want to live
All the time
but i am always the pause button
always the ‘what if…’
always the ‘unfortunately…’
always the ‘where are they now…’
always the lonely leaf in the storm of life
and im tired
always so fucking tired
i want to feel alive
but nothing feels more alive than letting the storm take you
i am free
and mostly i am alone
and i have no control
and im just so fucking tired of having no control
im so fucking tired of understading my life in metaphors
i just want to be
and i just want to breathe while i can
and just stop thinking about where i am
and where i could have been
and stop saying and all the damn time
and just live in this catastrophic moment of life that i have
and stop believing the rains and the suns and the winds and the people can change me more than they can move me
and just accept that i am here now
that i am free
as long as i can believe that i am

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not sure if im okay but im okay with that. i think.

there is a sort of beauty in chaos
an art to the sadness
a rhythm to the way my chest thumps and my heart rate increases double the rate in half the time
sometimes i find it hard to breathe
and the doctor says my chest pain is from anxiety
and now im afraid that i will die of a heart attack
and i hear that people who are afraid of dying of a heart attack
usually do
and now i am a bundle of nerves
pretending that i am okay
master of okayness
i try to ignore the impending feelings of doom and go to my happy place
i must admit i am not coping well
and i will go to church because it makes me feel more alive
than drinking alcohol or speeding down a lonely highway
i want to feel alive so much
i sometimes forget to live and my back aches and i try and sit in my backyard a bit more
especially early in the morning when the frost and the crispness is resting
and there is no noise and no one is awake and no one can touch me and only god can hear my rapid breathing
life has a way of making everything heavy
everything feels so heavy and intense and i know it cant always be like this
cause sometimes shit too heavy
but i will cope
and i will deal
cause what else is there to do?
im not ready to die yet