Burnout

by Coralee June

Luck was a cruel, petty bitch that didn’t visit me often. Karma, though? She and I were best friends. She spoke with my depression and knew all my dirty little secrets; she knew I bred skepticism in my mind and taunted me with the idea that I didn’t deserve happiness.

People didn’t realize what small, dark places could do to a person’s mood. My home became a tomb I couldn’t escape.

I was conditioned to look for the worst case scenario, because it was easier than getting my hopes up and then being let down.

Men were painfully generic when it came to caring about accosted women after the fact. Too bad no one was there when I needed them most.

“I think your ego’s so big it drags on the floor when you walk. Must be hard carrying around all that self-importance on your back.” I

“You’ve been through a lot. You thought you had to do it all on your own because you’ve never had people to lean on,”

“But a part of growing up means seeing the bigger picture. Why just survive, when you can thrive?”

You can’t love others if you don’t love yourself first, and lately I was even struggling to like myself.

She fell apart so beautifully. Like a sigh and a scream. Like the splitting of an atom, building entire civilizations while yanking me out of my element.

You’ve got that big dick energy, kid. Put that shit away and do what’s right.”

I think storms are beautiful. Chaotic. They’re filled to the brim with power and electricity. They spark change. They inspire new growth. Storms can be scary, but I love them,” I whispered.

“I’m in love with your sister, Lance. I’ve been in love with her since the moment she knocked on your door. You’re my brother, but she’s my soul. My fucking soul. We can talk about this later, and you can kick my ass if you want, but I’m going to make sure she’s safe first.”