Just a bunch of stuff I wrote while having an episode. Anyone else relate?

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Ive spent so long trying to string together as many pretty words as possible in an attempt to describe my chronic emptiness in a romantic way.

I feel desiderium to watch the sun set everyday and not hope that she takes me down with her.

I am trying to stomach the idea that maybe I am the broken, unlovable human my reflection tells me I am. The same way I try to stomach the secrets that I spill into strangers laps at the bar each night. I cant.

I write and ask myself what the point is.

I eat and ask myself what the point is.

i breathe and ask myself what the point is.

nothing fills me. nothing keeps me whole.

some nights I sob silently into my unmade mattress begging for someone to save me, for anyone to help.

Then I push away anyone who tries to.

and once theyre gone I decide im in love with them

I wouldnt say I am a storm, and Im definitely not the calm before it.

perhaps I am the aftermath?

the broken shells of ripped up houses and bodies in the street.

fires still sizzling but not burning quite as violently.

easily extinguished and clinging to life.