Hollow.

Usually the next day I wake up with a fogged memory, refreshed soul, or even just okay.

Today I woke up, and it's the worst its ever been. When I drive, when I blink, when I flick the television on. It haunts me. And it's light outside. That's the scariest part. My alarm clock feeds me no more pills and my friends are fed up.

I would be too.

This time it's too hard. This time I don't know who to call...so I look to myself. No one's how they seem. I don't even know what's inside of me, anymore. I'm through. I just need to open some skin and try and hold on. But that's what I've been trying to do? So here's to the next step.