the cycle

The cycle, the cycle.

I open my eyes. My dreams are filled with terror. After coddling myself and finding the energy to face this awful day, I check my phone. Someone texted me to hang out? How dare they take what little energy I have left. They are so selfish.

After getting out of bed, I walk to the bathroom. There is a man standing in there, but no one else can see him. I’m instantly filled with pain and dread. All I want is a simple ten minutes of peace, is that too much to ask?

I then hear people talking all around me. The floor begins to shift. I’m sitting on the toilet grasping the edges. I check my phone again. Oh yeah, I was asked to hang out, how nice! They’re such good people. Maybe I should say no, since they deserve a better friend. They deserve someone better than me. All I’ll do is disappoint them. All I’m good at is disappointment.

I begin to think about how sitting on the toilet exposes my thighs. Thigh exposure makes me a slut. I’m a slut! I get up and wash my hands. Not once. Not twice. But three times. I can’t be a slut. People know about me. They know I have a vagina, and due to any lack of common sense that makes me a slut. What if I’m bad all around? I’m a bad slut.

I go into the living room, suddenly, I’m struck by a big idea! I can rob Wal-Mart. I can jump over the counter, steal a gun, and say”give me all of your money!” And they will. I’ll just talk the cops out of arresting me – I’m good at that. I must be good at everything. On the way to robbing walmart, I’ll pierce something.

Someone wanted to hang, once again, I forgot to reply. Of course I do! I’m in such a good mood, nothing could bring me down! Maybe they want to help rob Wal-Mart. Or graffiti. Anything at least mildly illegal and we’re fine.

I’m hungry, if I’m green I’ll eat everything in sight because I can’t possibly gain weight. If I’m not green, I won’t because I’m already fat.

The day passes and I stay green. I talk too fast, I walk too fast, and I think too fast. I continue to do illegal shit as the day rolls around. Come nighttime, I’m still green.

It’s night now, and there are little kids in my living room. Shuffling and scooting around. Why are they taking my food? I throw something at them. The stress of people being in my house uninvited makes me tic. And tic and tic. And tic. I beg God for mercy.

I take a shot. Then two. Then three. I start to sober up? Make it four. Anything, anything to make this stop.

Eventually, I pass out. It’s more final than falling asleep.

And it all starts again in the morning.

If I survive then I’ll see you tomorrow,


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