The Last Hope Crumb
Keep Your Cool, It’s Only Burnout.
Sometimes, I go all silent, though never inside my mind. It’s not that speaking hurts, just that I feel depleted. I can’t talk because I’m hungry, and need those bits of thought for myself.
I’ve been feeling very hungry lately and that’s not good. To the point where everything about my life irritates me, from the people I see, to the people I don’t. I fight the urges to latch onto the good things, because they deserve me least in this state. As I’m trying to order things, but can not. Every day that goes by feels like I know myself less, like I’m further from finding what’s left of me.
I’m stuck in honey, or a spider’s web. Dealer’s choice. Even my words, which never failed me before taste ashen inside my mouth, and the things that once brought pleasure feel like the same old, same old. Can’t claim this change is sudden, but that don’t make it hurt any less. Feel like my own guts are betraying me, like everything I’ve known is turned upside down, and spinning on its head.
Like rot.
Like raw.
Like someone I’m not.
Someone who shouldn’t be leading my life in my stead, someone I don’t know what to do with. Or how to mold into the person I thought I’d be. And these words aren’t helping, yet they fall…
