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Half Measures
This is how it starts the decline of who we are, the decline of something more the start of wars Installed in us is confidence confidence, a blessing or a curse Without confidence we stand degraded, disenchanted, alone while with too much we kick down too many doors in celebration of charm and charisma gravely mistaken as a badge of honor when it's nothing more than a swelled head a measly test to gain self esteem built upon miscommunication Hello society, do you remember me? No? well I doubt you would and I don't think you could I don't really remember myself anyway Who was I before I started typing who is this new person filling these empty spaces I have suffered amnesia in recent weeks A trip to California filled with excitement wonder, adventure, love something wondrous from the droll momentless wasteland caused a slight chain reaction from inside quite frightening My birthday was marred with my own inner demons attacking me when I breakdown, I breakdown letting free flowing tears never dared to stain my countenance in droves before for a straight hour, the peptalk to make that day the best ever turned into an internal war that raged on for two hours killing the day, killing the moment, killing plans well prepared so here I share with you an excerpt of the day: 'There's a lit cigarette...how I hope to high heaven it were true but seems even my own dreams of tattoos are false I am false Do I even exist What's the point of even trying, I screamed myself a pep talk exiting from myself to get a grip of myself What good did that do if I'm sitting here crying, angrily crying inside my own mind drowning in burning embers, feeling like a heel I feel like such a heel ground so far into the dirt Someone special did something special for me, my Maribelle and all I can do is waste away here as she pretends I don't exist, she's frozen by my inaction as I cease to exist in the physical world like I wish I could This was a mistake I sabotaged my own birthday..again I sabotage everything Why am I my own worst enemy' I blame well at least before that day I had an out I blamed my job for grabbing at my nerves and ripping them out It took everything I had not to tear my own hair out Maribelle, she knew my discomfort she knew my outrage, for a year now our contact has been consistent a daily motivation as all others in my social circles went on with their busy lives we are all loving people with strong ties to one another yet we are all just terrible at constant communication a tangent but back to the main course I've kept this hidden from Maribelle but one close other knew the truth I was contemplating suicide I've been vocal enough of my hate for my life to end prematurely and surely I hoped nothing would come of it if I did so solely in writing as I've done in the past but this last round of grievances this last round of agitation made it ring true I maybe overdue for a curtain call that no amount of love, no amount of promise can bring me back from so desperately I took feverishly to my notepad and this what came about: 'There's a lit cigarette in the hand of my new angel at least that's what the ink on my arm dictates, enunciates with feeling, feeling like I'm all devoid of If I slit my wrists now, may she save me before I have a split second to change my mind for then it'll be too late I'd tear my head from neck in violent protest it was getting too heavy for me anyway In any and every way, the sickness is sinking in the poison in it of itself that labels suicide it's sinking in, bitter ever bitter burning wounds yet to heal filed under anger which has been blooming for weeks uninterrupted weeks clawing up the walls of my insides begging for freedom and I in an attempt to not submit chew my own version of cigarettes a school born addiction of mint and crystals harmless chewing gum to ease the anxiety, to stop me from screaming at the top of my lungs like my hero in anime Anime, something's not working; this isn't working the items I use to alleviate the hot air flowing through my system a form of airbending called breathing, laughing, disintegration persuasion to lose yourself in distraction I call it decompression but decompression compresses me into a box a claustrophobic box of small proportions and it's still here, absorption embedded in my skin, an itch I can't rid myself of So sets in the sun, singed becomes the hair upon my legs as fire starts to spit and sputter from above in rays so harsh and it's crumbling the structure I was composing the structure I built the structure, the structure puncturing through skin....' Puncturing through my skin was the image of Hannah Baker displaying in two strokes upon twin wrists her 13 reasons for ceasing to exist amongst an overflowing bathtub with tears and screams of pure agony as her lifeforce slipped I caught my composure in a pretzel knot and broke down When I break down I break down and now I don't know who I am Maribelle, she's trying to put a humpty dumpty back together yet she alone is grasping at puzzle pieces while I like a ghost try to aid but I'm useless without my hands all I can offer is love, love is all I have left Everything else I fear is only a half measure
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