trigger warning: feelings of depression/hopelessness
i am an empty room that no one’s ever really been in. i am an empty room and i want to sleep but i don’t even know what that is right now. i am an empty room and i make art murals out of my stained glass because then i’ll be good enough for you. i am an empty room, and i want to die for no apparent reason right now but whatever it’s just another tuesday and i’ll probably make it through. i am an empty room, and there is no one left inside me right now. i am an empty room, and the colours can’t seem to reach me. i am an empty room, and i feel like screaming. i am an empty room and everything around me looks kind of blurry and i feel kind of crazy. i am an empty room, and i barely have the motivation to keep breathing. i am an empty room, and i can’t see the reason for living. i am an empty room and it feels like the moments are getting more and more disjointed floating between the empty spaces. i am an empty room and i keep moving, but my heart isn’t really in it right now. i am an empty room and someone notice me, someone notice me right now except i don’t want anyone to notice me i deserve to be bleeding and i deserve to be lonely right now. i am an empty room and i am shrinking down, and down, and down. i am an empty room, and even these words don’t make me feel like anything more than crying. i am an empty room, and i keep trying to distract myself from this feeling but i see its face in reflecting back at me in everything. i am an empty room and i’m pinching myself every time i get nervous like this is a dream or something. i am an empty room and i want to reach out to you so desperately, but i think maybe that means i’m dependent and maybe that means i’ll hurt you and maybe that means i’ll hate myself so i stop. i stop moving. stop speaking. because i relish the pain i make myself feel. and it’s just a bad day, it’s just an eruption, just an explosion, and i’ll probably be onto the next breakdown by next week anyway, so who cares anyway? i am an empty room, and i don’t say anything. and i can’t hold on forever. and the weight is so exhausting. and when i look into the mirror because i’ve taken three hours to get out of bed and another hour to open my eyes and another hour to get dressed and another hour to stop panicking i just sort of feel like nothing.
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