I Need Help

I need help.

They say there are good days and bad days.

But how can you tell the difference when you don’t even know what day it is?

Each day is the same, and yet never alike at the same time.

I’m never asleep at the same time.

And if I eat, I never eat at the same time.

And what is time itself when you wake up and don’t know if it’s day or night because of the four walls keeping you in, keeping you from the things that made you laugh?

Made you smile?

Made you cry?

But like, crying for an actual reason not because you’re so lonely you feel like you could die.

Why are we even here?

Not like, why am I trapped inside, no because that’s all the news talks about anymore.

Is it just a cosmic coincidence or is there some greater meta-ethical purpose to life?

Quite the puzzler for the ages if you ask me.

I mean simple ontological reductionism is clearly a fallacious argument but-

The point is I’m tired of it.

I’m tired and I can’t sleep.

I can’t tell if this growing headache is because of the crying or because I’m severely dehydrated.

You ever heard that joke about dehydration?

No?

Exactly.

There’s nothing funny about dehydration. 

These are the things that keep me up a lot.

And what it would be like to have a pet shark.

And how much I miss you.

I hate like almost everybody, but all I’ve done is think about whether you’re okay.

I guess that makes you pretty special. 

But I know when this is all over, I’ll still be laying right here.

In this bed.

Because I can’t bring myself to get up anymore.

Not when there’s so much to do.

Like, think about names for my pet shark.

And counting seconds between each blink.

52...53...54…

But no one else is counting.

I think about what would happen if those seconds stopped…

If you would mind?

If you would understand?

I think about what it would be like if I took this whole bottle of pills like in seventh-grade like what we’d do with Smarties when we’d just shove the whole thing in our mouth until we couldn’t breathe.

Only the worst thing that could happen then was a few cavities.

I don’t think these pills will give you cavities.

Maybe I should Google it.

Is this cough a regular cough, allergies, or am I another statistic and a body bag?

That also keeps me awake from time to time.

Maybe I’ll Google that too.

There I go again with the time…

Now it’s 11:13. 

Do sharks have a bedtime?

Do sharks think about the meaning of existence?

Do they get dehydrated?

I’m pretty sure they can have cavities.

I don’t think they can catch the ‘rona though. 

I don’t know.

But I wanna be a shark when I grow up.

I need help.

Sharks need help too I guess.

Okay, that was my TedTalk...

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

__mru___254

look at you the words totally relate to me totally :)

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