but i don't really want to think about those things anymore

disconnected, separation of mind and actions, empty space filled with apathy. tunnel vision, no end in sight, fumbling blindly in the dark. pills to offset pills to offset impending disaster. mind numbing terror, hoping my world doesn't crash down again - one test could stand between me and my fate, between me and what the future holds. i am terrified of what i have faced, what i am becoming, if i can live through this last year one more time. inconspicuous symptoms, blinding fear, uncertainty around every corner. i try to hide behind this empty shell, behind my aspirations that crumble from their inception. why commit to another meaningless endeavor when i might have to break my heart and let it go again...to be able to live with myself, being forced to throw it all away hoping for a clean ending, not wanting to admit defeat to everyone around me - while i have been defeated all along.

crumbling facade, rotting from the inside out. good enough to the passerby, but the wary eye sees the imperfections lying below the surface. what does a sick person look like? can deadly cells and deadlier diseases be seen from the outside? or does the pain lie in the eyes seen only by those who care to look. where is the warning, or the sirens and cries for help? they don't count when no certainty exists.

judge, but don't feign understanding. you think time can heal all wounds, but it just allows the pain to lay dormant, unsuspecting until the next. shadows of a physical pain linger in every moment. all that is left of all this noise is a few scars worse for the wear. burning out, smokeless, not a flare on the horizon. can someone save a sinking ship, bound to keep taking on water with no warning...im afraid im bound to stick this out alone. i miss home, i miss the days when i was young and naive, i miss the painless dreams.

i hate the morbidity of this day to day routine. the days blend to nights then bleed into another day - suspended between life and sleep, unsure of which is harder to face. vacillating, never settled in my own skin - it no longer belongs to me, but to what has come to define me.