I don’t remember

the feeling of being okay

I don’t remember

the desire to achieve something

I don’t remember

why this all is worth it

I spend my days

hiding bloody wounds

after spending my nights

waking up from empty sadness

Time is just

an endless loop

of nothing

So what’s the point?

It won’t matter if I stop trying

It won’t matter if I let myself fall

_It won’t matter if I crash_

_and become broken forever_

__

_It won’t matter_.

Everything I love

has turned gray

Beaches,

writing,

being at home,

sunshine,

and

all of my good memories

Everything has become

a lump of dread

empty and cold

So what am I now?

An alien?

A _zombie?_

__

Yes

That’s it

A _zombie._

__

At this point,

I’m definitely not living

But honestly,

am I even surviving?