You write a poem instead

Did you tell God about the way your lungs caved in last night when you realized it was quarter to done and you were quarter to failure or pass and You're not sure if you should cry or smile because dammit you can't breath. 

You don't like new beginnings do you? 

You don't like fresh starts or new things or new people. 

That whole process of getting to know, 

building routines. 

You don't like the idea that you could be good enough.
or not good enough.
or just below average.
or that someone will hold you to their standard.

And God you hate mornings.
You hate the way the air is colder.
You hate the kinda blue the sky is.
But no one can hate sunrises so you'd wake up for those.
But only if your boyfriend promised to kiss you better when it's done and let you sleep.
But you can't help but love the smell of coffee.
Black and strong but not so sweet because how else can you stay on team perfect teeth.
Teeth whitening is not as big an issue as fillings.
But Ice cream isn't going anywhere.
Neither is custard.
Because sometimes you need to eat with your heart.
You need to eat the kinda food that hugs your soul.
Even if its 3 slices of pizza, an extra hot nandos quarter chicken, 6 hot wings and a beer.
Yesterday was a binge kinda day but your bank card declined and your dad said something about a job when you called to ask him why you had no money.

Which is weird because it feels like you've been working your whole life.
You just wanna live now. But who can afford to live?
Can't he give you a little time to get on your feet but he says something about "legally and adult".
You're not even sure you're not a baby anymore so you cry and he feels sorry for you and hugs you because dads are the best even when they don't pay your bills.

You wake up at mid day.
Everything is exhausting. everything is boring. so You're only awake long enough to put something in your tummy and pass out on the couch cause days are too bright.
closing your eyes matches the darkness inside and you suddenly realise you're relapsing.

But its 2am by now. Your best friend has a job already and you're too scared if you call him to say
"I think it's happening again, the darkness is swarming" he will worry about you so much he won't get any sleep. So you don't call.
You write a poem instead and hope the words make it feel better.
But it doesn't so you resolve to being awake till he wakes up.
But when you call him you realise he has bigger fish to fry than you not being sure if you like life or not. So you say, lets talk about you.
You wish you guys still saw each other everyday.
Maybe then someone would notice you're drowning.