A Nothingness

It's a rush of nothingness.

 

A silent cacophony of quietness.

 

Hidden behind baggy eyes due to lack of sleep

 

A tiredness that is more than just skin deep

 

She struggles to wake herself up

 

She has been on and off all night

 

Her brain driven by paranoia and anxiety

 

She listens to the music it plays defiantly

 

But it doesn't give up.

 

It eats at her;

 

It is the excess oil in her hair she cannot bring herself to wash

 

It is the dirt underneath her nails from scratching her filthy scalp that she gives herself time to dig out

 

To pretend she is being productive...

 

It is the plaque that stains her teeth that she cannot bring herself to brush even though it makes her mouth stink

 

She can feel the grime as she runs her tongue over each one, 

 

Puts her finger between her lips and begins to scrub

 

Even though she knows it's not enough. 

 

It is the ache in her bones that tells her not to get up

 

It is the violent modd swings that make her want to give up

 

It is the panic attacks in the middle of the night 

 

Her heart beating out of her chest and she knows it's useless to cry

 

But she just can't help it. 

 

It is the body odor that wafts into her nose when she moves an inch

 

If she just reached her arm out to the right she could grab her deoderant stick

 

But her arms are too weak. 

 

She has been laying in bed for sixteen hours

 

Mealtime has passed and her stomach writhes in pain as it begins to scour

 

All it has in storage is bile and the bones of a broken girl

 

Her mother begs her to get up, 

 

Tells her she's worried.

 

While she tries to feel any emotion at all because everything is so blurry.

 

Is she mad? Sad? Down? Blue? 

 

No, she concludes.

 

She is just a nothingness that all of her nothing consumes. 






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