these days

"the end is in sight."  i tell myself this several times an hour.  this final push, this final week of class, of tests and of stress — it gets to me.  it always has. 

so i tell myself this over and over, until it echoes inside this empty head of mine.  "the end is in sight."   to stop myself from what?  i don’t really know.   a feeling, i guess..some kind of surrender, something like quitting. 

change is ever present.  changing majors, changing lovers.  and i feel it..that tumult in my gut.  i think i thrive on it, though it eats at me.  ravenously. 

i spend so much energy fighting myself.  it seems i’m always waiting for the storm to subside, for some calm.

and it never really does.  i have moments, maybe.  a brief stillness.

in sleep. in vivid dreams. in the switch from one hip to the other, eyes closed.  always closed.

of course it doesn’t last.

i’m weary of the drugs.  of the medication, all the numbing that goes along with it.

these are all dark things, shadows and layers of fog. 

the light, the good, seems silly to write about.  it seems insignificant somehow.  though, i think i’d be dead without it.  so it isn’t insignificant.  at all.

still, my fingers hesitate to write them.  here or anywhere else.  my brain can run a marathon on all the destructive shit that goes on, but suddenly convulses with hiccups when recalling the good. 

get me through the next week.  get me through a birthday and unreasonable amounts of stress, the holidays.  get me home, get me to bed. 

respite, please.  please please please.