I'm not tired anymore. Fuck everything, I just want to sleep. It feels like everything was always just this room and these sheets and the same four white walls and the bathroom door. My head hurts too much to listen to music and I can't sleep and I don't want to think about it, every time I stand still I see my dad's face catching the light in the trash bag and her staring down at my mom and I just want to go home. I want to wake up and I want for all of this to be not real and goddamnit I'm going to cry and I haven't cried since we got here and I don't want to now my head hurts too much.
Guys, I know some people are reading this. And maybe it's just for the fun of watching me go crazy, maybe you think this is all in my head. And maybe it is, maybe I'm in a padded room in the fucking looney bin, I don't even know. I wish I was, I wish this was all my head, I wish I knew whether it was or not. I would go in the bathroom and take the bottle of advil that I saw in there and take the whole thing and my parents would still be okay and Kate would be okay and she wouldn't exist. The halls of Kate's house, the green carpet and the pretty landscape paintings in the family room and the typical suburban street outside seem like they aren't real. If they were real this couldn't be happening, nothing happens in the suburbs, I wouldn't be here, sleeping and waking up and sleeping again and eating and sleeping and dying
OH FUCK NOT THIS AGAIN
No comments:
Post a Comment