This is not a suicide note

I woke up with a lingering feeling while the world was sideways

and the light laced and intertwined with my room shaping it with beams of gold

and my mirror across from my bed showed a thin girl staring into nothing

I forgot I only ate once yesterday

imagine feeling hungry but never satisfied

or lost the appetite for everything all together.

Oh are we still talking about food?

I forgot because my mind is distracted by all the things I haven't done yet

Yesterday I was so accustomed to folding clothes at my low life job 

I started folding my laundry the same way

I threw my khaki pants and started sobbing because 

there was a full basket full of neatly squared shirts and pants

I don't remember any of it

but I can tell you the look on my lover's face when he asked me if I was happy,

my stomach twisted into knots and I didn't have any strength to tell him no 

so I lied to him the first time

He tells me to not worry and that he is proud of me because of my fighting spirit is endless

I feel like I drag myself 

I forgot how to stand properly from the weight on my shoulders

People think I am just lazy and slouch

My body is accustomed to a certain part of pain 

My body conformed to it

I stopped wearing make up

I wanted to sleep more

I still have blackness under my eyes from watching the room 

turn from darkness into the dawn

I guess I forgot to tell that to my circadian rhythm

I remember when I told everyone I wanted to be a musician

then I started to become sad

More sad than normal

more sad than walking into a practice room then shutting off the light because 

I just wanted to sleep

More sad because I wanted to study but couldn’t focus between

the blotches of wet spots on the same sentence I have been trying to read

for thirty minutes

and don't forget about the time where the college said that all your dreams are possible

as long as you pay the price for working yourself into a cocoon of sadness that makes you 

forget why you are striving for something

in life because in high school they taught you the value of x

which I whole heartedly remember to do

but I can't figure out what health insurance I need just incase

I slip on a floor and bust my head open

I don't remember how much my books cost but I am sure my bill from my student loan debt will

remind me another reason why I shouldn't want to breathe anymore

Or maybe the lowlife job of cleaning up after grown adults who are still paying off their

student loans will tell me how much of a lowlife I am

and how my miserable job is a perfect fit for my bland appreciating life

and when I tell people what they tell me they believe I should see a doctor

A doctor that will look at me and wonder which brand of brain medicine would match my 

name as if they were trying to figure out what shoe would match their outfit just to be cute

All of those years in medical school and you don't even know how to spell half of those 

medications

I wouldn't be able to either because I am too busy sitting in class wondering

How I would even apply some of this information 

in real life

yet I will be paying it off for the rest of my life

and then I realized I wanted to be journalist 

because the pressure and expectation to be a perfect musician 

was just too much for me to bear

because all I wanted to do in a practice room was sleep

But it is all okay because all of my friends from all over can see 

how perfect I am through social media

and how could I be sad when I post a picture

and I am told I am beautiful 

while the world reminds me I am not

When I look in the mirror and I see those smudges underneath my frail skin staring back at me

I see that skinny is perfect and unrealistic

Curvy is fat but natural and beautiful

There isn’t a safe ground anywhere because someone

Will always start yelling how one body is better than the other

And how

Everyone is beautiful but then

They share an article with all their friends

About how bigger women attract more men than skinny women

but if I all said this of how I view the future is me seeing me

at a job I thought I would love

but all I do is stare at a clock wishing that the numbers would take me else where

then it was all for granted and I wasted

I was told as a child I could be anything

Little did I know that if your parents had enough money to go see a movie

Then they had enough money to get you through a

School with 45,000 tuition per year

Realistically

I guess you can be anything

I wanted to be a singer

And then I saw

How the industry can break a persons soul

Or if you have an illness

Everyone can have access to it except for those that really need it

While we pay attention to what the media throws at us

And then buy an eight dollar coffee afterwards to cope

I have pointlessly lost the times I have stared at the window wishing for another life

To have that luxury

Or being so disgusted with myself as a failure that I couldn’t look in the mirror

To meet the eyes of someone who didn’t look like me anymore

I see all these things around me become so foreign and that is considered over dramatic

I feel proud to be a women

Yet to others that is wrong

Tip toe around other people’s feelings

But put them behind a computer screen and you see a real monster

This is not a world I want to be in

This is not a world I do not enjoy

I do not enjoy this superficial world based upon suffering to reach some sort of

Goal that you thought you had in mind but couldn’t remember it 30 seconds ago

Because I was too busy trying to remember if

I had enough money in my bank account to buy bread

Because I wasn’t taught how to plan my bills throughout the month

And I do not make enough at my low life job to

Pay all of them all at once and have enough left over

To last me another two weeks

And that is why I tend to avoid conversations so

No one can see that I forgot to eat lunch and supper

Because I lost my appetite

Because I was wondering

How I am going to pay all these bills

Or how I have to lie

That everything will be okay

Because I “never had a problem with anyone walking out on me”

When they did when I was 14

So I expect everyone to leave

But no one talks about that and if I did

It would be labeled under “daddy issues”

And then matched to a type of medicine that could rhyme with

That doctor’s favorite color

Because they have to pay the bills somehow

But I don’t know how that works because I forgot to smile

When someone asked me if I was okay

Because they saw the smudge under my eyes grow darker

But do not worry

This is not a suicide note.