i was doing good. i was doing so good. this was such a good month for me. i had hope. i had light. but i don’t deserve goodness, do i. i don’t deserve to move forward from the hurt when i still haven’t paid in full for my inhuman. 7 months of grief weren’t enough. it just keeps coming back. you just keep fucking coming back.

i can’t think my way out of this. i can’t write my way out of this. i can’t keep feeling remorse and expecting it to pay off somehow. i can’t keep going to sleep and expecting to wake up in a world where everything is okay again. i can’t keep going back there for answers. i can’t keep playing this game with you. i can’t keep trying to hear your thoughts and i can’t keep hoping you’ve heard mine. i can’t keep revisiting the same conversations, the same words, the same pictures and sounds and songs, the twitch of your mouth, the tone of your voice, the same fucking voice that told me i never loved you, that i was never true to you, that i left you in pieces, that everything was going to be okay when you crushed my world in your fist. how could you say that when it hasn’t been okay in months? how could you say that when my lungs are still a vacuum? how could it ever be okay when we’re still sinking into the depths of this endless tunnel, this tunnel of lies, this darkness that leads to more darkness, these walls that reflect the ringing in my ears, this dirt that clogs my eyes and pores and veins, this air that poisons the cells in my brain. this tunnel never ends. i’ve been running for so long. it is stretching into infinity and we will never escape.

i’m done. i’m done with this. i’m done being fed this incessant provocation. i’m done being yanked and twisted and blamed for your rope burns. i’m done being pried and dissected and tossed to my grave and i’m done being set on fire and left to die alone. i’m done with thought and i’m done with words and i’m done pitting common sense against itself. i don’t believe in you and i don’t believe in myself and i don’t believe either of us knows what’s good for the other. this has cut me down to nothing at all and there is no way back from my alien form. i am slices of flesh. i am boxes of bones. i’ve been destroyed and glued back and knocked down and rebuilt and it’ll go on for eternity if i keep letting you win the unspoken war of who loved who more. when do i get to rest? when do i get to be at peace? when do i get to be whole again? i want to be human. i want to stop. i’m begging you to stop. please.