There are some things that make me feel so empty that I can’t even write about them.

I have a permanent stomachache. It’s like knives run through me.

I love my mother, and she loves me. I don’t count my calories anymore and I think of bright lights. Yellow and white. Shining through my window, waking me up. The warmth envelopes me. My skin gets hot. They might take me away. Maybe tomorrow morning. Maybe I’m already gone.

On a train ride. It’s late. You are there, too. We’re disappearing. I’ve never felt so content.

The music in my headphones is the sole reason I’m alive. My skirt is riding up and my stomach hurts as always. My legs stick to the seat. I remember how much value I placed in that hospital room. The sterile smell, the beeping machines. The doctor and his laugh. Don’t talk to me unless you get to my dream where we’re both on the train and the light has come. I won’t be back. I’ve always liked the journey more than the arrival.

~happy tuesday night !