These nights are so dark,
but these days are so much darker.
Weakness is filling me to the brim and I am
overflowing with
regret
despair
loneliness
but it all seems so normal.
Riddle me,
were there once days I didn't know this?
This pillow is has miniscule circles
to mark each tear that has fallen
tonight alone.
Again alone.
No sound outside.
My mind is racing and pacing
with these tedious tasks that tell
me what I know what I should do,
but credit goes to those who deserve it.
Not me. Not worth it.
To hear a voice speak of my beauty...
is flattering, but to hear myself say it

.... I feel like I've waited all my life to hear it.

Could I miss the me I don't remember
or the me I never met?

Alone again with my head on this pillow
staring into space
making circular stains
that won't even last until morning.