When chemicals fail and the same science that you find comfort in fails you.
When suddenly, without explanation, you want to run. Away. And hide.
Where no one will find you, knowing, still, that you want to be found. Somehow. Sometime, when you’re finally ready.
But you don’t know when you’ll be ready.
What you need to be ready for, you don’t know. Life?
When you’re searching for answers to questions that shouldn’t need asking, if you know the questions to begin with at all.
When, perhaps, the answers have already come but the rest of you refuse to listen. Perhaps.
When you refuse to accept the reality because, you say, you must fight it. Not out of shame but because, you think, you’re strong.
When you’re not as strong as you want to think you are.
When really all you want is for all these thoughts in your head to stop meandering about in your head and fucking you up, for the uncontrollable bouts of sorrow to leave, for the unexplainable, painful negativity in your idle pondering to disappear.
When you just want this all to end.
When you wish you knew how.
When you wish and wish and wish for you don’t know what but you wish this wasn’t your collection of words and all this was nothing but imaginary.