[poem] (sometimes, it's worth it)
If I do it, will I regret it? Afterwards, will I find
That the frenzied buzzing of thoughts gives way to a mind devoid of anything?
That coordinating every single muscle required to stand up is too much effort?
That, if I try, I can wrangle words into a sentence in my mind, but as soon as I open my mouth to speak they disappear?
That, at dinner, when I drop peas all over the floor, I break down crying because it's all too much, wordlessly screaming at reality to stop because I don't have the energy to deal with this on top of everything else?
That at night I'll lie awake because I'm too tired to sleep?
Is it worth it?