every day it should get easier

every day it should get easier but for some reason it doesn’t.

there’s a small round rug where knees weep for intervention but it never comes. steps a through z are followed meticulously and even with chemicals stains never disappear.

strange numbers, texts, nudges and emails tease the pain. i play along with waning hope, just enough left to think that maybe today i’m really seen and really matter.

the more raw my expression the more distant is the embrace.

they think they know but they don’t. i am two high school graduations away from calling it quits and i pray every night for the strength not to call it quits before then.