stranger's disease

"i wish i believed you when you said that this was my home"



it's fine

I wake up every morning
at 6:15 
and I undergo the same awful journey
even if I try to look for
something nice and inspiring in my way
there's nothing
just the same dullness

and then I reach school
and I see the same faces
I wonder if they also have black rings under their eyes
I can't tell by myself
I don't even look at them

like in a slow motion film
eight hours go by
as I try not to lose my head
talking about the things that keep me alive
with my friends

(or at least that's why they pretend to be)

only by then I wonder why
the headache is piercing my sanity
as the horns and buses slash my brains
slapping my mind loudly out of its carcass

and in that awful journey back home 
I forget about everything that happened
I wonder if that person walking back home is the real me

I don't even want to go back home because home means
pushing yourself a little bit more over the edge

and when I get there
I sink myself into a chair
and become a subject of understanding
who only finds aid on the Internet

I clean myself, pretend it's allright
'try to relax'
I tell my mum I did well in History class

but what if I've been an idiot all this time?
what if everything I've ever excelled at just didn't matter
and I was the actual stupidhead this time?

and when I put my head to bed at night
and cry myself to sleep
begging for mercy
I see it's 11:56 pm
and that I've wasted
just another day

how can this be okay?

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