Um i honestly dont know

Look A poem i wrote (is it a poem I guess it is now)
My emotions are weird sometimes I don’t feel any through eight am to four pm and then all of a sudden I feel a mixture of sadness confusion anger and enthusiasm and I spiral into insanity and I want to yell profanity. and it ends at like six

It doesn’t even have to be that I just want to yell, I don’t like sleep so exhaustion feels like hell I know I’m definitely not well, not physically or mentally, my head feels like it’s a bell always ringing it hurts more than the time my throat felt busted up from “singing”.

Eight to Four I feel almost feel nothing the chaos and instability seep in and six it ends Eight to Four and Then Six The only, The only numbers that ever make sense to me Eight to Four and Then Six but nothing ever does

Eight Plus Four Plus Six Equals 18 the number 18 means independence and lasting benefit but I see nothing of the sort Eight to Four then Six a cycle that never ends Eight to Four then Six the hours pass Eight to Four then Six,

Eight Four Six, Eight Hundred forty-six don’t you feel the insanity sinking the chaos feeding of your personality slowly erasing your being? Eight to Four then Six and again and again Eight to Four then Six all I am is a husk from what I formally was Eight to Four then Six.

Eight hundred and forty-six metaphorical pieces of twine wrapping turning into a noose like collar every time I try to run away it pulls tighter on my throat I can’t talk or it chokes, the collar reminding me that I have no control over my self

E-I-G-H-T, Eight, four letters, the number of years of my childhood I mostly don’t remember F-O-U-R, Four, four letters, the year I have the most memories and the number of memories I do remember S-I-X, six, three letters, the age I have the least memories of.