nine.

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𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want to type out all these
stupid fucking feelings
and send them to someone

but will anybody answer?
will anybody care?

i wish you were still my best friend,
because you're online right now
and i know that you'd listen
even if it made no sense at all,

but it's hard to start conversations
with you anymore,

so i just sit here
on the bathroom floor.

i feel angry
i want to smash my phone.
but i won't because
my parents would be angry,
and i don't want them to yell.
that doesn't stop me from thinking
about it a lot.

i put both my earbuds in
and turn the music up
as loud as i can manage
because every other sound
is bothering me a lot
but i also have a headache

and for the past few days, i've
been playing nothing but the same
album on repeat
because it's the only songs
that don't annoy me,
it seems.

the aching in my chest
is really setting in,
this heartbroken feeling
that doesn't seem to go away.

lately i've been drinking more water
and i'm proud of myself for that
but i don't feel a difference.
no, i don't feel any better.

i've been trying to eat regularly
and (failing to) go to sleep earlier
and still, i don't feel all that better.

still, i make
empty promises to myself that
when i wake up in the morning
everything will be better.

i admit that sometimes i think about
disappearing into an eternal darkness,
something more then hiding under
all my blankets,
but then i remember the lights of my life

and so i close my eyes
and go to sleep.

— everything will be better in the
morning,
just another empty promise i make.

and i seem to make a lot of those,
don't i?

but tonight, i'll
try
to make it true.

tonight, my promises will
mean something because
i need them to.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you have no idea how absurdly long it took me to write this one

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