Early Morning Hours

I’m tired. But I’m not tired like I want to sleep tired, which is kind of funny because I think I’ve just been running off of cigarettes and coffee for about 3 days now with no sleep. No, I’m emotionally tired. It’s some vicious cycle that keeps me up at night. Blood veins in my eyes throbbing, and I can’t sleep. I don’t sleep. Anxiety fills the hole in my chest like gold and glitter. Depression like a cement seals it over. Locked in tight so my heart only pounds louder. Scars on my wrists are so obvious, I know, and I’m tired of hiding it. But I feel so overwhelmed all the time, like I’m leading a double life. One minute running around buying 4am lattes with friends, joking about working the pole, (or not joking, who cares, it’s a pole?), the next drowning in a bottle of vodka, crying in the shower and wondering why I’m still here. Friends help. But sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they have their own problems and you try and try and try to talk them through it, to fake a smile next to them and tell them everythings gonna be fine. But I’m a ghost afterall. I’m dead inside and out. I don’t understand where I am in life and I don’t know if I want to. I haven’t been fine for a long time, so why would you be? I feel so guilty because I can’t help, like they help me because some days I’m so self absorbed, my world is crashing down on me like a boulder or a cloud of doom over my head, heavy and gloomy, crashing, raining, pouring down on me. We run on money and eat it like fuel. We run on smokes and coffee and drugs. Gasoline lights up late night fuses. I just need a heroin that’ll put me to sleep. But insted I’ll rave in the violet lights until my legs can’t stand anymore, burn through ectacy like candy. Laugh a good laugh and dream a good dream. Because I’m good at pretending to be alive. Tired, because I haven’t slept, but I’ve never felt more awake. 

– Lemon Ghost 


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