Broken Musings.

So I go to the doctor in the morning.

So I get to pretend that I'm feeling fine and social.

It kinda turns out that I'm not.

I've tried to eat tonight, and every attempt has wound up making me ill.

I'm laying in my bed waiting to sleep. Hoping to God I'll be comatose.

Hoping to God I don't dream.

I feel like I've shattered into a million pieces.

And I'm struggling to put them back together before tomorrow morning.

How come nothing ever works right?

How come things always boil down to this?

How come I always wind up alone?

Am I meant to never share my feelings?

Am I meant to never love?

There's too many questions.

Too much aching in my soul.

Too much wanting.

Too many words I want to say.

But not enough mental strength to find the way to word them.

Plus, too little time.

I still hope you make yourself everything you couldn't be when I was holding you back.

God knows at least one of us deserves happiness.