I can’t breathe because dead things don’t breathe

But I’m not dead because my heart is still beating. 

Now I’m stuck in an endless cycle of trying to breathe 

And I’m so close to death every time 

But I get just enough air to stay there on the edge of dying and 

I just. don’t. die.

 

I cringe at every word I’ve ever said

I hate my life

I wish I was dead

I come up with clever rhymes

Just so I can hold it all inside

 

Hate is the only emotion I can process 

It’s the only simple emotion this world has. 

I need to do something.

I need to feel like I’m doing something.

I need to make sure my life adds up to something

I need to not be forgotten 

I need a moment to breath so I can reassure myself I’m fine 

and I need some time to sleep.

 

I’m crying and I hate myself for it. 

No one prepared me for this misery; 

They didn’t even try to shield me from it. 

I hate people because they make me feel worthless and 

I hate people because they aren’t doing anything to help me with this. 

I hate everything and everyone 

And I like doing that. 

It reassures me that I’m still human. 

What I thought was numb before was actually happy

I just hadn’t felt it in such a long time I didn’t know what it was. 

But now I’m back to crying and writing words that will never be seen. 

 

I am a zombie. A zoned out, miserable, brumous, ineffable, errorist with a love for words.