There are some days that I wake and breathe and the ground meets my feet. I can look at a day and smile from the shadows of the morning. There are some days that aren't as hard as I thought they should be. Or could be. Or would be.
Some days that I can't breathe. Can't focus. Can't see through the grey.
Mornings, and afternoons, and nights, when all I can do is think of the next day and how ugly my world will still be, as I stare at the cracks forming under my shaking hands.
There are mornings that are choked with guilt;
Afternoons that are drowned out by tears;
Nights that are mauled by muffled screams.
All I can manage is to wait for the next sunrise ...then sunset, wishing for everything else to disappear.
I watch the light fade.
I watch the world fade.
I watch time and myself fade.
Everything I am: a thread slipping through my fingers.
And I chase the tread and I watch it slip.
"sometimes it isn’t as hard as I thought it would be
sometimes I can lift my head in the morning
I can breath
I can smile
I can imagine the rest of the day being enjoyable
some afternoons all I want to do is cry
some afternoons all I can do is cry
I can’t breath
I can’t focus
I can see my hands tremble to reveal the internal cracks
some nights my throat is chalky with guilt
some nights I want to scream and kick
I can’t sleep
I can’t dream
I can only think of how bad it’s going to be tomorrow
some days....all I can do is wait till the sunsets
some days...all I want is for everything to disappear
I watch the sky
I watch my word
I forget time
I forget myself
because everything I am hangs on a thread slipping through my fingers
and all I do is spend my time chasing the thread
and watching it slip from my fingers"