Can't eat.
Can't sleep.
Can barely breathe.
Just want to let go of everything that is me. Nothing's wrong.
Nothing's right.
Don't even care if I live or die.
Surviving isn't living, just a slower version of dying.
Tired of it all.
Fed up with this fucking crying.
Staring at these walls, waiting for the big nothing to call.
Lying here in wait, for my final fall.
Burned out by the anxiety.
Underwhelmed by society.
Living to die.
Dying to know.
Will I hold on or just let it all go?
© kristy ellison flake