I am not who you think I am.

Cristina Matteis
Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read
Image Credit: canva.com (Free Images)

I am not who I think I am.

But I am.

I am.

I am.


I’m giving up. I’ve been giving up. This has been a steady process, a slow release, a quiet slipping away.

And I’d ask for help but I’ve lost my voice. Haven’t you notice? I can’t write anymore. I can’t speak anymore, either. I’ve lost focus while I’ve been losing touch.

And I just keep wishing – I keep hoping – I keep praying –

That things will turn around.

And I’m not asking for someone to swoop in here and save me. I learned that lesson long ago. I’ve only ever had myself. And only myself to blame.

But I’m so tired.

How long can a lost soul stay in purgatory?

I keep making the same mistake. Mistake after mistake. I have become the Ouroboros personified.

I swallow shot after shot of whiskey, striking match after match waiting for the ignition.

Because the darker it becomes, the harder it is to see the glean of a path. And this darkness breeds my insecurities. Here, in this space, they multiply daily and their weight is crushing.

They keep me here.

)

Cristina Matteis

Written by

“I think, therefore, I write.”

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