Obscure

These pills have rid me of passion and have staled my pain. 

Inauthentic misery. I feel it crawl around my soul but my mind prevents the expression. It prevents that release of anguish from the stagnate and ceaseless silence. Just me, the ghost of the girl I used to be, and all the afflictions in between. Who I was hates who I am. 

Some of us deserved better than this asphyxiation.  This overwhelming feeling of being numb, but it’s comfortless. Distressing. Empty. It’s a life in limbo. Stuck in a rut we didn’t even start ourselves. I still hold on hope to brighter days. The high is always worth the pain. The high is always worth the pain. 

I need a bump of joy, a pill made out of satisfaction, a syringe filled with my childhood dreams. I miss being surrounded by those I love and those I’ve yet to meet. I hope to be with y’all very soon, in whatever temporary illusion of euphoria we can find these days. It’s rare. Take what you can get. Delude yourself if you must. Whatever it takes to see the next day and just hope that a sun ray picks you to shine on. 

I don’t want to add my lightning to an already bitter, relentless storm… but I will always choose me. I too, am bitter and relentless, and I cannot rectify the rain.

Despite all of this… I will always miss you. 

Whatever it takes. Right?

I wish to see y’all on the other side of this obscure darkness.

-Empathetically Yours,

MAR (Mortified Millenial)