buried

i'm trying to get something out.

it isn't coming out.

why does the day seem less real? why do i seem all too real? and why is the end coming at all?

it's coming and i know it. it's coming and i'm so completely unprepared.

i'm trying to breath but i don't want to.

i am not lying.

i'm alone in the house but i don't think i am. i'm scaring myself.

i'm getting out of here.