February 9 – wash, rinse, repeat

there’s only so much you can do to drown out certain noises

headphones in,

but i can still hear the 

thwack

thwack

thwack

of the ping pong ball against the wall

turn up the music

but the sound seems to get louder.

the sound isn’t the problem

the problem is that nothing,

not the ceaseless banging,

not the music coming through only one headphone,

not the memory of laughter,

can fill up//drown out the

roaring black hole

that’s opened in the space between my ribs

it’s only beginning

and with sleep,

and enough melatonin,

it will probably

go away

maybe 

consume itself

instead of me

yet i’m giving it a voice with my words

even if it fades,

if a shower and the freshly washed blankets from my bed

drown it, smother it

it will forever be memorialized

one of seven days

i guess i should admit

i’m scared that it won’t go away

or that it will

and just come back

scared that my whole life is just a cycle

up 

down

around

and back again

waiting for the sunrise all night,

but dreading the sunset at noon

high is too high,

can’t breathe at that altitude,

low is too low,

shattering on the rocks and the waves wash the pieces away,

and this is

just

e m p t y

hate my reflection all day,

crave what is a breath and a mile away,

anticipate that the piles on my floor will grow again,

take my notes in my new pens,

shower with soap that i bought in the midst of a panic attack,

rinse a handful of pills down with lemon water,

wait to feel

better

or wait to feel worse