– TW: Depression, Su*cidal Ideation

I am tired of the roller-coaster
Tired of not being able to walk away
I’m tired of self-perpetuating cycles
Tired of this feeling of certainty
That I am stuck here in this place
Until it kills me.
It is not my job to save anyone
When I can’t even save myself
From myself.

I want so much to be seen as worthy of love…
But excuses run dry –
And then there is only the silence.
That speaks more loudly and clearly
Than any excuses ever could.

I diminish until there’s nothing left… I become
The shadow of potential…
As a nihilist I know that nothing matters,
But as an optimist I long for moments –
Moments that sparkle and shine amongst the nothingness.

Also… I am drunk.
But life is better pondered in an inebriated state.
So hats off to Dylan Thomas,
And give my regards to Sylvia Plath
(alath, alath, poor Sylvia Plath,
she put her head in the oven and turned on the gath)
Tomorrow is a brand new day.