my spirit is willing but my flesh is so weak

im so eager to find something, to make this count, that i have managed to push it away. im so exuberant at moments that my ecstacy kills the moment. im more than whats needed; im the ounce extra. the piece of cake you didnt need. the drink that turns you from floating to sick. i just cant fit in. i can see my flaws, but im blind to those when it counts. im so eager to push away, to envelope, to hide in my dreams. to raise my expectations and crash when they arent met. to jump to conclusions.
this pill has taken over my thoughts. it consumes me. im fixated. im obsessing. i rely. i dont depend enough.

im confused. im perfectly acute to myself, to what i need, to what im feeling. im so intimate with this sense of confusion that i've mastered the state. i have it down to a science. i understand myself in the sense that i know i dont understand a thing. im all talk and not enough fact. not where it counts. im jealous.
oh, im always jealous.
im jaded. im... im...

when? when did this become her? wasnt she always so happy? wasnt she always so sure? led by books and words and page after page. straight a's, no trying, giggles, friends. games and straightforward and shy and bold.

she once was.
she still is.