it was just trash.
it was just your dog going through a trash bag you knew had food on it
that you still left on floor.
it was a simple clean up.
but it lead to much worse.
you stared at if before throwing your phone violently at
the wall. you cursed it as if it were judging all your life decisions
up until now. you covered eyes to hide it. that's all you wanted to do.
hide.
you step over it trembling with what you think is anger but is more accurately
a brimming anxiety. you sit down on your bed and as you pick up your
phone you see it has shattered in one corner and on the top the plastic covering
all the motherboards is gone.
you start to sob.
you were already crying, but now you're full on sobbing.
it's just a phone, you think.
it was just some trash, you think.
but you know it wasn't.
you knew it was just the tip of this fast burning pile of needles
you keep trying to desperately ignore.
first it was losing her.
then it was losing yourself.
then it was trying to get yourself back up and
failing and
failing.
then it was pretending you're fine to everyone else
because there is no point in telling them you're upset.
they wouldn't understand.
do you?
you find yourself with a blade hovering over your skin.
it is a blade you keep hidden in your drawer where no one
can find it.
she told you to get rid of them all.
you obviously didn't.
you wonder, then, how a pile of trash became blood
on your skin.
you trace your fingers over your right arm - smooth.
you trace your fingers over your left arm - bumpy.
you start to sob again.
you wonder where you went wrong.
you were so happy for at least a year.
you didn't give a s**t about anything but yourself.
you were selfish, but you were safe.
as you wonder where you went
so
horribly
wrong
you also wonder how to
be
happy.
(you've never quite figured out.)
faggulicious Community Member 
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