Wednesday, June 8, 2022

Bedtime

In a dark room I stare at a blank screen
Thinking of all the times I messed up, all the words I said wrong
Is this it?
Is this all I'll ever be?
A pile of regrets compounded into anxieties.
Anxieties that chew on my mind in the dark.

 

Maybe this is loneliness
No one to message
              No one to talk to
No one to distract me from the list of faults being read as a lullaby.

 

Sometimes I imagine a knife cutting through skin, just so I can feel something.
 
But I don't want to feel anything.
 
I want to sink into the depths of dreams and never come up for air
 
They call this a downward spiral, like it's a slide I can stop myself on.
To me this is a swamp
A thing to struggle through and pray to reach dry ground soon
And sometimes when you think the ground is dry,
your feet will start to sink into the mud.

 

I hate this and wish my mind wasn't like this
But it is
 
And I get to go through life with emotional wounds being ripped open
when I think they've healed.
The world expects me to be better,
To do better
And those expectations act like weights in this swamp.
Maybe one day I can drop them and it will be easier to traverse life
 
But my head will still sing me to sleep with the reminder of my own mistakes...