424...

I have not written in a really long time
A minute ago when I picked up this computer
I thought I had felt some sense of inspiration
Like maybe I could sit here and write my thoughts
My friend is dead
And I dont think about it unless something else is bothering me
I dont ever let myself think about it
To be honest, I dont think of her at all
I can't, I dont let myself
I say up all night trying not to think about anything
In particular and lets be completely real here
I dont have anything to say if Im not letting myself think
How can I write a poem if I wont let myself accept
What exactly my subject matter would be
I wrote poetry that was full of sorrow
Like I had known what sorrow was
As if I had ever experienced any real form of sorrow
And the worst part is I feel myself slipping
Who gets this mad about nothing?
Im not writing about fucking anything right now
This isnt a poem
This isnt prose
What the fuck is this?
This is the ramblings of a woman who is losing her mind.
I dont want to be an artist because I fell out of love with myself
And as I typed those words I realized
I fell out of love with myself
Its no wonder every person I have ever been with has also fallen out of love with me
I am a hollow husk of what I was
I was an artist
I had dreams
i have lost every bit of respect i had for myself
I dont care anymore
I dont care about anything
I have day dreams about things I know will never happen
I remember having hope
I remember the way Gabby made me feel
The way she made me remember who I really was
She thought I could do anything
But I thought she could too
And boy was I wrong
So the validity I had in my self
that was backed by her
Is dead
Because Gabbys dead
Gabbys dead.
My friend died.
Did I mention that yet?
Its all I ever think about when I let myself think
But I dont let myself think often so I dont think about it ever.

Most nights I stay up trying not to think.