Maybe its time

..to write again. 

The feeling I wake up with in the morning, – it’s killing me. It paralyzes me like a zombie. I can’t get out of bed. I don’t want to get out of bed. There’s no point. Every morning is like this. I don’t want to wake up cause I don’t want to be awake. I close my eyes but my troubled mind is racing so all I can do is stare at the roof. 

Every morning. I’ll lay like this. Till I get hungry. 

Till I remember that comforting food. Now that I’ve been reminded of it, I want it more than I want to sleep. I get up. Big blue bags under my eyes. I walk determined straight for the junk food that slowly kills my brain. I press it down my throat like my life depends on it. Cause it does. I feel better. Full, nauseous, better. 

Even though I have eaten my way to such a big, ugly body, I feel so small and worthless.