More and more, I feel like I'm floating, but not in a good way. A suspension bridge. A hot air balloon. I am going to fall one of these days.
Who will remind me to be polite? Who will remind me where I come from? There is no one and nothing is the same. We are all trainwrecks.
I am glad that you never got to see this darkness inside me. I am glad I kept it contained. It's harder now. It's harder to keep going, harder to remember what it felt like to have a mother. People try, but nothing works.
Nothing helps me feel like a whole person. That's why I take such deep breaths--I have to fill up the empty spaces.
What if you really are just gone when you die? What if you're down there, rotting away, and that sometimes I just imagine that I hear you? I'm pretty sure it's all fake. I'm pretty sure I've done something terrible wrong and that I'm just too stupid to realize it. I don't want to eat, and I hate that I have to. I don't want to sleep, and I also never want to wake up.
* I don't want to be alone anymore. But I always will be, huh?
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