mentos on an empty stomach

vaguely nauseous. you hand me a couple mentos for old time’s sake, and we hide behind the vending machine in awkward silence. and i think i did something wrong, but i don’t really know what exactly. so… i’m sorry.

ever since this year started, our little group hasn’t quite been the same as it used to be. and if you’re not there, maybe i’ll never know how to explain it exactly. the aching silence and fading sentences, only interrupted by the vague thrum of the emptiness.

i created this mess. why don’t i know how to fix it?

vaguely nauseous. can’t eat anything at school, even with my friends. and something’s wrong, isn’t it?

don’t think about it. trust me. it’s only going to get worse if you think about it. if you follow the spiral like you want to follow the spiral. all the way down to infinity.

if you look yourself in the eye, except all you can see in the mirror is the monster. because all i can see right now is the monster. staring back at me.


Oof, I know this poem is really teenagery. But it felt like something I needed to write. Really needed to write. So yeah.  I guess I can accept that. I’ve been experiencing a lot of crazy levels of anxiety of late, and this poem really embodies that–this vague, buzzing fear that’s always in the back of my mind these days.

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