Turn my eyes to the floor so I don’t have to see the news on the way out of the gym at 4am. The state of the world has me already barely holding on, to overdose on it would be unwise, I know. Loathing fills me as I see from the corner of my eye screens filled with people who hate me, people who would rather I die, people filled with hate, people who make the big decisions, people who terrify me. Government officials.

It seems like so many I care about ride the same ride with me, we hold hands and look over the edge of a cliff together. Doing our best to pull each other from the grips of gravity, to not let anyone fall in the ravine beyond the living.

I’ve heard it called selfish. For me, my suicidal thoughts are just the opposite, they tell me that living is the selfish choice. That I stay alive because it is easier. Thoughts that come to me every single day of my waking life.

w a k i n g

Tear open my eyes, free myself from the nightmare. My limbs feel heavy, tired from running along the scare scape. Being held down, locked up, tackled, and drugged. The hazy, unformed oppression that hounded my dreams hangs with me as I struggle to find clothing in the dark, feeling along the floor with half numb fingers. Shaky breaths remind me that I’m free now. As free as one gets in this world.

I remember to look up and catch my gaze in the sun streaked mirror. Green, curious eyes stare at me, it takes a breath before I realize it’s me, and not a stranger. At least I’m awake now.

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