Class sent me back to first year so enjoy
It’s so easy to not get out of bed when you don’t even remember getting into bed.Â
My days blur together.
My head whirls.
Am I sober? Am I alive?
Nothing feels real, except for my bed.
Days past, at least I think
for time is not something I keep.
Care, hygiene, love, is not something I keep.Â
I keep nothing.Â
But do not think I have nothing
I have something.Â
That something is nothing.Â
A nothingness that lingers in me.Â
A nothingness that replaces emotions.Â
A nothingness that replaces survival.Â
Am I alive? Am I awake?
For each passing day feels like a dream
and I keep falling
and falling
into nothing.Â
I don’t know when I eat, when I drink, when I live.Â
I don’t know if I am dreaming or blacking.Â
Am I awake? Am I supposed to be?
Because I thought it would happen last month.Â
Because I thought it would happen last week.
Because I thought it would happen yesterday.Â
Maybe this means I’m supposed to be
but who believes in signs when you only have nothing.
Am I supposed to be? Am I here?
I don’t want to be here.Â
I will not get out of bed.Â
I will not get out of bed.Â
For when I do, my bed is not the only thing I will leave behind.Â



















