All my friends are dead

The scariest party is the prospect of getting used to it. The transition between being loved and being alone. Dying in a filthy room surrounded by cat's. Seeing the person you were spending the rest of your life with transform in front of you. Watch a light go out behind their eyes as they harden their heart over the course of a few words. The better part of a decade is lost, meaningless, reduced to a learning experience. Tramadol and intake and access. "Are you having any thoughts of harm?". Yes, I'm killing the future me who escaped this life, these four walls and ambient terror. Knowing how little you need and how many have it, to love and be loved. The hard memories will be smothered and the soft ones will haunt my dreams. Wake up and look for them until you remember what has happened.

Fear without possibility of cessation. It's grinding, and every year there are fewer hands to pick up the pieces. Each time they miss a few.

Survival in spite. Joyless days and endless nights. Live until there is no one left to live for.

There is always more to give.

1 comment:

  1. You ever wonder why God put you here? I wonder that about myself. I think it was as a counter-example for others.