The saddest kind of sad is, when your tears can’t even drop anymore and you feel nothing. It’s like the world has just ended. You don’t cry. You don’t hear. You don’t see. You stay. For a second the heart dies.
When people don’t express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You’d be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside — walking through their days with no idea who they are.
Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it. You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don’t find yourself.
I can never find the right words to tell people what I’m thinking. Telling them I’m tired doesn’t work, but I can’t seem to vocalize that I’m mentally exhausted and sick of existing. Telling them I’m sad doesn’t work either, but I can’t explain that I’m struggling not to kill myself and that the joy in everything in my life is gone and when I wake up to the sun in my eyes, I have to struggle to get myself out of bed because most of me didn’t even want to wake up at all. I can’t tell them I’m numb because what I’m feeling is so much more complex than numb and I don’t have the vocabulary to tell them that I feel like I’m drowning and it terrifies me that I feel nothing as it’s happening, and that my insides want to scream but I can’t even find it in me to shed a tear anymore, that every single aspect of my life feels like it’s shaded in grey because all the colors were sucked out but I can hardly even remember what colors are because I can no longer remember a time I didn’t feel like this. No, I don’t know how to say that. So I just whisper “I’m fine.”
