i wish that those cold mornings could come back so i could feel your skin brush mine, one more time. quietly, peacefully, safely.

i don't think i'm okay anymore.

the thoughts are overwhelming and honestly, there's nothing poetic about them. they hurt, god, they hurt. they don't suffocate, sting, crash, burn, etc., me. the thoughts are a different kind of pain. they are a silent killer, creeping quietly, not from the shadows, but showing themselves from the crowd in the sunlight.

they make me feel alone.

they tell me i am a burden.

they tell me i am attention-seeking.

they whisper these things in my ear but it feels like a shout. a deafening, high-pitched scream. i can't silence them out because in reality, it's just a whisper.

it's like static in my mind, running endlessly, furiously. my heart beats with no rhythm- i'm slowly coming apart like torn shreds of paper in a river stream. i just wanted to drift afloat, not lose myself.

the thoughts get so intense in the quiet sometimes. i believe them. i write these letters to you, xxxxxx, but i'm honestly writing to anyone who is listening. that's the thing, though, i feel like i can't go to anyone. when i write it, i see how silly it is. but i don't want to burden anyone. i don't want to be angsty and attention-seeking. i don't want anyone to be troubled about me. my logical side is screaming at me that i'm not a burden, i'm not searching for attention, i'm not what i think i am. but it's so hard to believe.

because, here's where you tie in.

no matter how worthless i felt, i knew i could at least talk to you.

you'd hold me close through the screen with your words, pretty in lace, i felt safe. i don't have that feeling anymore. i am so sad that i can't have that anymore.

i miss you.
i want you to be happy.
i wish i could have been your happy.
i miss your words.
you are everywhere and everything.

why'd life have to do me like this?

love,
xxxxx.

9:53 pm
May 23, 2019