comfortable in the uncomfortable

comfortable in the uncomfortable 

sometimes i find myself missing the days

when my head felt too heavy to lift,

when i was fixed to my dirty bedsheets,

when time seemed to leave me behind,

when my pillow was soaked with tears,

when my stomach did not hunger,

when i still wore yesterday's pajamas,

when my face was smothered in drool,

when i felt the sharp stings on my thighs,

when the only thing i breathed in was snot,

when my hair was glazed in grease,

when my teeth were nearing decay,

when i was nothing but living flesh,

when i was only depending on myself.

looking back,

i was filthy

i was still

but i didn't mind

because it was familiar.