There are some mornings when everything seems tasteless.
These mornings when nothing seems worth the effort. When you can only tell yourself what you’ve been telling yourself. When the words that once moved your heart look dull and dry
The days where you realize that you’re still: an addict, insecure, trying to get everyone to love you, trying to make your parents proud, trying.
I guess these days don’t stop. I hope they get further apart.