Collection 1.6

I'm not entirely sure of the exact day it started.

I can't begin with 'Oh it was a rainy Tuesday, March seventeenth to be precise.'

But I am aware that it was a day in the season of spring,

And while everything was waking up from its temporary death,

I was still subtly buried under the cold snow that fell months before.

My bed anchored my limbs to its posts,

Whispering 'Don't wander out into reality, darling. It will only tear you apart",

But it failed to see that my mind was already completing that action.

Ripping me apart, piece by piece, shard after shard,

Until I was just a small pile of fragile threads.

I walk through seas of people day by day,

And all that they see is this girl,

This girl that looks satisfied with her life.

When underneath that entirely fake façade is a terrified human that can't get more than 3 hours of sleep at one shot.

A monster...maybe is a better term.

And maybe that is what I am...

Or perhaps that is what lives inside of me.

My family pushes me to attend irrelevant parties, to make plans every Friday night,

And they look past the dark circles under my eyes and believe the one famous lie that my lips automatically respond with,

"I'm just tired."

Tired? Yes.

So maybe it's not a lie completely,

But I'm mainly tired of smiling at things that I don't find amusing,

And joining conversations that don't grab my attention.

I can only fool my peers for so long...

And I'm beginning to slip.

Slowly I feel myself fading away, like the fog in the morning

Motivation is no longer in my vocabulary and I'm a nomad on this earth,

My grip is loosening and I don't know how much longer I can hold on before falling off the cliff.

But is the fall really so bad?

"Happiness is a choice," people tell me,

But they didn't have to live through the series of unfortunate events that I have,

They don't sit in the bath tub at two in the morning with their knees to their chest,

Contemplating...is this even worth it anymore?

Am I even worth it anymore?