Game over

Sickening sadness

Food cooked without flavor, paintings drained of color

Unsafe even in the comfort of layers and layers of blankets squeezed tight

Cold despite my coat being on inside,

Clammy hands

The pit in my stomach before the drop

The inability to stop shaking and rocking my body,

Maybe the shaking is what brings me to the ground again

Squeezing my eyes, my ears, but my fists won’t hold tight

Punching a wall no a pillow no myself no, no self harm, smoke weed, again and again and maybe and again maybe you’ll stop feeling like this

Maybe you’ll find that peace you only ever had when you were addicted

Impulsive thoughts are your safe space

Change is the only constant

The only glue that keeps me together constantly tears me apart

Wanting it to stop wanting it to stop wanting it to stop, I always fucking hate when it stops. When will it start again, will it start again, why can’t I know, why do we have autonomy but no control

Why do my dreams feel like reality

Fairytales of a joker drunk on dispair

Leaving my head foggy

Yet

Constantly in alert

When will I need to down a bottle of bills or maybe just sleep, sleep, close your eyes, sleep, no fuck, sleep, stop waking up, sleep

And do it again and again and again until the game over

-Shealyn Shea Lyn