Torture

I’m not broken hearted

I’m just an idiot

I know I’ve waited around , I know I haven’t put myself first and I know I invested too much on my time

I know I’ve made excuses

I can’t force my body to burn itself out

What’s the point?

“It’s…whatever”

“It’s…. not a big deal”

It HAS to be not a big deal

I’m aware of knowing the danger of what I am doing

I feel it everyday

My mind pulsates a hundred miles per hour whilst it calculates the winnings of the day

My body throws itself through its turbulent motions like a heart monitor on a sick patient whilst I scream and cry and beg for it all to be the way I want.

And when I finally win , my mind finds a new problem to fester it’s cells on.

There is no relief.

But this isn’t a cry for help

Not only am I aware of the damages of what I’m doing to myself

I know this doesn’t end tomorrow

I’m just trying to find a light in my narrow tunnel.

But Believe me I will be crawling to the other side even with nothing of me left

I have to

I have to fight for myself

I simply can not control the people in my life and I never wanted to

I can not control who cares for me and who wants to be there

And I can not control who wants to put me first

As much as it hurts

And I question why everyday there isn’t room for me in their lives

I simply can not put myself through that questionable Torture again and again

Because it is, exactly that.

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