Numbness taking over. No motivation. No fear. No feelings.
I laugh and I cry but I know I’m just trying to fool myself.
What’s going on? Why can’t I just be sad?
I’m not going to be unrealistic and aim for happiness, but that would be nice, too.
I want to get angry when people trip me in the halls. I want to be sad when a friend says something hurtful. I want to be at least vaguely amused at my American history teacher’s poor grammar and limited knowledge about American history.
I’m losing friends, and I’m losing feelings.
I write poetry often because I don’t know what else to write.
My poetry sets a scene instead of an emotion.
All I understand right now is where I am. I am in my bedroom in a skirt and a T-shirt with a bulldog on it, lying on my bed, typing on my laptop.
That’s the only thing I am. ♦