12:49 a.m.
It's that time of night again.
When all the emotions run
their courses through my broken
body, etching deeper furrows,
eroding away the resilient shoreline
in whitewater waves of pure feeling.
I do not want to, cannot deal with
them- any of them.
So I drown myself in media,
in the millions of fanfictions and
Facebook posts and meaningless
YouTube videos and book reviews
on what I'll never read, and craftsy
blogs and Pinterest projects I
won't ever do and TV shows
so horrible only late-night viewers
are zoned out enough to even bother.
It's all a depressant, an electronic distraction.
I do not have the internal strength
to handle my emotions so I don't
even attempt to try.
I cry and feel wretched,
then continue to watch
another video sequence of
flashing colors and sound bytes.
The truth is,
I am a first-class coward.
3:26 a.m.
