bodies

i don't know what to write. or why i want to write. i feel fucking useless.
i've been trying so goddamn hard these past weeks to be happy. to make my life less sad. to not lay in bed every day with blankets pulled over my face. to get dressed. to open the shades. to go outside. to say hi. to not hurt myself. to go to therapy groups. every day. i'm trying every day. i'm tired every day.

everyone is so fucking alone.

i sat next to a girl named summer. she told me she had a dream about me. we were cleaning my room. she told me that when she was at home and depressed, she would think of funny things i've said and feel better. she gave me a dragonfly ornament on my birthday. when i see her face in my therapy group, i feel better. i sat next to her on a couch. we want to be friends. i sat next to her and i felt miles away. like a ship in the sea. all our bodies. we can be all sitting next to each other but we're all out at sea. it feels like everyone can only get so close. or maybe just me.
i sat next to a boy named josh outside on a bench. he was smoking. the sun was hot. we exchanged numbers. we want to be friends. he texts me sometimes. he wants to hang out but it never works out. he said he lives too far away. miles away. i'm at a point in my life. at a point. a point where nobody else is. where nobody else lives. i wanted to text josh last night, but i didn't.

i walked down my street today and all the houses sit next to each other.

i don't care what happens to me anymore. part of me does but more of me doesn't. more of me than ever before. the people who were in my life are not anymore. the ones who are are barely there. a girl i love tells of how she's sick and talks of all the horrible things she does to herself, to her body. and i can't take it. it hurts too much. to read and to hear. and she doesn't forgive me. she never will. and i'll live the rest of my life hating myself for it.

all of this is a jumbled mess. like my room. piles of clothes make mountains to get to my closet. all of my dresser drawers have vomited. naked hangers have lost their sweaters. spiders have made warm homes and i don't know where they are.

sometimes i sleep in the car. or my brother's bed when he's not home. he's not home a lot. i don't want to be in this house anymore. i don't want to try to feel better anymore. i feel like rotting. i'll rot with my dead cat. i dug her up a week ago and she's in a box in my driveway. there's a hole in my backyard. i spent three hours digging. i was digging in the wrong spot. it got dark and the hole kept filling up with water. i had to fish out the water with a flower pot every few minutes. my clothes i wore that day are stained with mud. i didn't know mud could stain.

her body is still in the orange sheet i buried her in.
but her skull in on my desk.

i don't know what is wrong with me. i feel like there is something wrong with me.
i want to just feel close to someone.