Empty

Staring right in front of me without seeing anything. This mist is thicker than it appears. My grey eyes reflect the coldness around me. It's spring and warm, but I'm cold, constantly cold. An old, tarnished hooded sweatshirt with a zipper covers half of me, sweatpants covers the rest. My slippers are too big and I kick them away. Colder now. Every cigarette drag is going slower, more tedious and dull. Yet, they fulfill me from the inside, the only thing that can.

I'm waiting, and I've been waiting for soon two years, without bending my will, without bending my already broken heart. I forgot what it was like to live without the shatter. His picture follows me everywhere I go, and so does his loved one's. Two separate pictures, or I wouldn't be able to deal. And I scroll past more than I read, flick more than I watch, zone out more than I listen.

Unfamiliar music streams through my headphones, I needed not to feel. I'm grasping at straws, for this night lasts forever. I'm captured in my aching, flicking away the cigarette just to light a new one. Didn't you see me as the ground disappeared? I had nothing but somehow lost even more. The ground is shaking, the air is so still here and I breathe.

Kill me, please kill me I tell my cigarette as it slowly fills me up with tar, please kill me. I reach for my slippers and put them back on, but I'm not warmer, not colder. My world is nothing without fairytales, but they always end badly. Nights of sorrow and empty days, I'm screaming, crying, yearning but what can you see? Nothing. Strong, brave. They call me strong and brave but oh what if they knew. The things that I've done shadow my past I am nothing.

It drags me down when everything becomes too much and it hits me all at once. How am I even standing? I fall apart on the floor, just seconds later, too tired to even gasp. Just lie still, hoping for an end that never comes, just lie still. I've forgotten how to express myself and now all I have is my words. It's all I have and I have nothing left to live for. Nothing left to die for. I'm lost in between, lingering.

But there's no place I'd rather be, no place that I want to be at, than just right here. Breathing in circles and cigarette smoke that takes too long to kill me. I vanish, I was never here. And oh I know how it feels when my heart is breaking, I know it like nothing else. Nothing else, nothing else, I know of nothing else. And I know when enough is enough cause I've been through too much already. Someone please help me I cannot live this way.

It's 22:12 and there comes a point when I no longer want a better life, I want no life at all. Just erase it all, make everything black or send me home. I'm tired. And that word is rarely enough, if it only was something stronger, something that could explain the feeling of carrying the weight of the world, 26 years of misery, thousands before then and longer before that. If there only was a word that could describe the never ending feeling of never ever having enough energy for anything, of not having enough energy for breathing right, for eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom, brushing my hair, cleaning the dishes, taking out the garbage, going to school, seeing people, taking road trips, going to parties or for emptying an ashtray. Tired.

It reaches in to my soul, into its very essence and I can no longer stand my own nature. Cut the chaos away and leave me empty. No, no metaphors, just clean and simple. But my thoughts are so heavy, as if they actually had a mass that is weighing me down. Something is, but I can't tell what it is. It is many things and they all tie together. If it's a diagnose on a piece of paper: asperger, borderline, transsexualism, depression, eating disorder, ptsd, dissociation, the darkness I cannot fathom, or if it's something deeper inside my soul that can't reach out.

And I'm locked between two worlds. Your world filled with the saddest news, requited love, flowers, animals, sun and darkness, night, day and so on - and my world of chaos, unrequited love, heartbreak, things that aren't real, ghosts, a haphazardness that always stays and always conceals. And I think that the biggest difference is that if you press the wrong button in your world it's not the end but it is in mine and I'm constantly pressing the wrong buttons cause there are so many buttons and I have so much to lose.

But I ended up losing something I never had, I ended up breathing for what was never mine. How did I live past 26 years old? My memory is like a giant archive, I can pick and choose any time of my life and I know exactly what happened and when and sometimes... even why. But I can't even remember which way I took on my way to the grocery store yesterday and I suck at math, what does that say about me?

I'm waiting, and I've been waiting for soon two years for what will never come. I'm apathetic sometimes, a wreck the rest of the time and the only word I know is his name. Timeless flickering, I can't keep my eyes open. And for a second, just one split second, the whole world disappears and I'm at peace. A faint breeze passes by and catches my blue hair, and I know, I just know, that time does not exist and neither do I.