Haven’t felt this way in ages.
Like I’m 15 years old again crying my eyes out about the endless love story that could’ve been.
Like I’m 8 years old again and my sister won’t play with me so I sat down to wail.
Like I’m a newborn again feeling the abrasive air against my skin and voices in my ears.
I haven’t sobbed like this in a long time.
The sob that wracks your whole body making your spine shiver with the frustration and anxiety.
Sobs that not only exhaust you physically, but require every ounce of mental strength you have.
This is like the typhoon of cries.
Like the hurricane of weeping.
It’s relatively quick, but the path of destruction is immeasurable.
There went everything I meant to do.
Everything I meant to say.
Everything that would hold me together for tomorrows day at work.
It is all gone.
All I can hope for is that after this crusty eyed tear dry sleep I’ll wake up with something to hold onto.
Something like a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel.
Like a rope cast down to a person in the well.
Like a promise after a good cry.
That’s all I can do right now.
All I can do is sleep and hope.
Beyond that I have nothing.
I am nothing.
I will be nothing.
And even as these words flow from my fingers onto a screen I do not have them.
They are the product of too many books and too much time and too many emotions.
They are not my words.
These are not my hands.
These are not my soggy eyes.
All I am is tired.
Tired and hopeful.