Stumble over my own sock feet as the kettle screams with a rising pitch. “Yes, yes, I’m here,” flip the whistle up and turn the fire down. Everything is a blur through thick curtains of tears, a nearly continuous, salty stream. Pour the water, watch it change colors as it passes through tea bags, watch the stream rise in hefty clouds that quickly dwindle to nothing.
Heart quickens thrusting fire into my blood and tears down my face. Shuffle back to the couch to stare blankly at the brightly lit screen. Worthless, waste of space, incredibly naive. You have no value, fucking burden you are. Look at yourself, bastard lump of shit. My body shudders at the stream of consciousness I cannot escape. Fundamentally damaged is an understatement. When was the last time you even tried to contribute? Oh yeah? Your body is rocked with pain? What about all the times it isn’t? Ha! Worthless garbage.
The way clouds cover the sun and dull it to a golden coin barely glinting, I am cut off from any memory of joy. Struggle to remind myself that the fire is not real, that my heart is not slowly catching. Calm lasts less than half a breath before I choke and fall again under the spell of darkness.
Look at how they scrambled to save you, just to watch you further drown. Pluck you from the waves, but only enough to evoke fear and guilt. Then let you sink once more.
The wall I built to protect me, is exactly what holds me under.