I don't sleep much anymore.
I pass it off as stress, but that's not it.
I say I work better in the darkness, and that's true
But the real reason is that I don't want to face the day.
I don't talk much anymore.
I pass it off as just fatigue, but that's not all of it.
I'm always listening to music during conversations I'm expected to be a part of
Because I just don't really belong.
I don't really care much anymore.
I pass it off as tiredness, but that's not entirely it.
I have let the apathy control my actions and words,
But it's gotten to the stage that I don't feel emotions.
I don't really live much anymore.
I pass it off as exhaustion, but that's not completely it.
I'm afraid of the outside world, not it itself, but it's inhabitants
Because I don't trust myself to interact with them.
I don't sleep much anymore, I merely survive.
I survive with the pitiful stares that follow me around like the grey cloud that floats over my head constantly.
I survive with the knowledge that I should take matters into my own hands but I just can't.
I survive with the annoyed looks people give me as they try to get me to talk.
I survive with the knowledge that I am nothing but a disappointment.
Because that's what I am; a scared, sleep deprived, disappointment.
