shitty first drafts &such.
it’s a strange phenomena. something no one will ever understand, i suppose. but the feeling of emptiness always takes over. always. it never lets go. you’re holding someone’s hand, but you feel alone. you’re kissing someone, but you feel empty. empty inside. like that person’s tongue isn’t filling you with the sweet honey that comes from love. the kind that usually warms your whole body, allowing you to say, “i like this. i hope this feeling never goes away.” but then it does. and you’re just sitting there. on the concrete steps. thinking, what was the point? what was the fucking point if it only lasted five seconds? and all of the sudden you start getting goosebumps. the hair that you shaved off of your arms two weeks ago suddenly become apparent. hair grows back. and it is standing on its end. and you’re shivering. and you subconsciously wrap your arms around your body and pull your knees up to your chest. and you’re freezing. you feel the wind rushing against your pale cheeks in the most violent manner. the wind doesn’t like you anymore. it doesn’t blow your hair in the right direction, showing off that new shampoo you spen ten dollars on. it doesn’t blow your hair in a sexy way, where your natural highlights shine in the sun. instead, your hair gets in your face, gets stuck in your tears. and you’re a disaster. you’re dying. you just feel numb. the coldness, the wind, got to you. you can’t feel anything anymore. not even a kiss could fill your body with warmth again. you can’t be saved. it won’t happen. no one cares. and neither do you. because this is the last day you will feel like this. it happens too often, too much for your own comfort. you just can’t handle it anymore. you feel out of control. the world is spinning spinning spinning around you and you can’t hold on to anything. that bottle of vodka that you’re holding--the one you didn’t know you grabbed since you were lost in thought--falls to the floor. crash. shatter. you fall with it. you can’t deal with the spinning, you can’t deal with the emptiness. your hand lands on glass. bleed. your hair and clothes are wet with alcohol. your face is salty from the evaporated tears. and you just lay there, knowing not where to go, who to go to, because you’re afraid. you’re afraid that if you move, if you think, if you feel, it will happen again. and that emptiness and loneliness will take control. and you will be on the floor, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the street, lying there again, all alone, because your friends can’t handle you and you can’t handle yourself. and then you’re gone. goodbye.