day in, day out

 maybe god has erased every other person

      maybe im the only one left, it surely feels that way.

may i please

have a friend again?

may i please

not feel like an apocalyptic soul?

may i please 

feel belonged again?

may i-                           (you're asking too much)


to do:

write 1500 words of the essay 

finish the bio chapter

put ink in all the blue pens

start working on your resume

find yourself  (i don't have time)

drink 8 hours of water a day

someone, please help me 


the loop strangles me, its firm grip ever-strong. 

i can physically feel the chaos - wash over me like waves i didn't anticipate would be so strong.

everyone's been saying this year would be tough, and i need to be tougher, but how do i compete with bedrock and screws? how do i go head-to-head with diamond and expect it to break?

the doctor will look down in horror at my rotting brain, so full with words and texts that it simply could not keep up with the infestation. 

and if you peel my exterior back. little by little a hole exposes itself - a hole of rushed assignments, sleepless nights, drained movements and blurry notes. 


i dangle this poem, a raw hem - a cherry on top of my disarray, 

      i must work i must work i must not waste time (what is time - its 4am, my eyes drooped and bleary but i must get this work done, i must write this poem otherwise my feelings will have no where to go.)


help me, i need to find myself. 

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