Echoes

TW: SH, Suicidal Ideation 

Im staring at the ceiling again. Its funny how the silence in my room is louder than any conversation Ive tried to have with people lately. I keep waiting for a notification, a text, a sign that someone actually remembers I exist when Im not actively begging for their attention, but the screen stays black.

Ive started wondering if Im even a person to them, or just a project. A sad friend they can check off a list to make themselves feel like good people. Oh, Im such a saint for staying friends with them. Please. Staying friends isnt just keeping someone on a contact list while you mute their notifications. Its actually being there.

My brain is still glitching, the APD makes the world feel like a badly dubbed movie where the audio doesnt match the lips. I try to fit in, I try to time my words right, but the gap between me and everyone else just keeps getting wider. Its like Im speaking a language that doesnt exist and Im the only one who knows it.

The only thing that feels real anymore is the sting. I hate that Im doing it again, but its the only thing that cuts through the numbness. The blood is the only thing that proves Im still here, even if I dont want to be. Im just tired of fighting a war where Im the only soldier on my side.

Im just a ghost haunting my own life.