Every time I go
to write the
first line
my mind becomes
an empty shell –
Writing used to be
the one thing I had
to keep me
sane but now
I can’t even string
a few words together –
Failure.
A word I’ve become
too familiar with
over these past few days –
While all of my friends
tout their lofty GPAs,
loving families,
and care-free minds
I am stuck
in a sea of self-pity;
Wallowing in
my inability
to make it through
the day without
sobbing.
I can’t even look
in the mirror
without recoiling
in disgust
over all
I haven’t
become –
Shouldn’t my life
be easier shouldn’t
I get to share in my
friends’ successes
shouldn’t I catch a
break one of these
days why can’t I
just hold myself
together?
I can’t eat
without my thighs
expanding
Can’t sleep
without my monsters
screaming
Can’t breathe
without crippling failure
tearing
the air from
my lungs –
Table for one
at this self-pity-party;
Yes I know it’s
exceedingly whiny
but I can’t stop
the thought spirals
from coming and
I wish I could
find the silver
in this lining –
But for now it’s
just me and my
shortcomings.