Sometimes I must remind myself to breath. I must gather up the motivation to keep walking; step by step I tread, pain shooting up my feet.

Sometimes I forget to eat, telling myself little lies to hide the truth of the why. I know all too well, yet I keep falling over the same steps of familiarity.

Sometimes I live in my dreams, I want to escape myself, for I know what I will find will not be the same beauty I only see in my slumber. I only see the dark storm of bitterness, the resentment of the past, the grief I wish to forget. I see my faults like the stars in the sky. I see everything so clearly, but my vision is clouded with my hatred.

Sometimes I want to pick myself apart, fix everything until I can rest in myself. I seem to long for the control over myself. I just want to be fixed.

Sometimes I try to pretend I am not consumed by anxiety. The more I pretend, the more my audience believes, and the more my curtains will close. One day I will only be a shadow of a girl who was afraid to breath, a girl who hides behind words and uneven eyeliner.

Sometimes I am a fool, someone who falls in traps I set for myself. Someone who can’t stand the sight of my own reality, so I hide on the outskirts of my imagination.

Sometimes, I give up explaining. It’s hard to tell someone how you feel, when you don’t want them to see what’s inside. To see my own imperfection, to explore the very brokenness of my being. I don’t want to hear the answer, I don’t want to talk about it.

Sometimes, I am afraid to be.