Don't Blink 2.0

   It all still seems so surreal like a dream your breath in my ear your skin against mine our fingers perfectly intertwined and when our eyes meet the galaxies cease to spin. And at that very moment, my darling, we  are infinite.

I had a feeling September was going to be pretty awesome.  And I guess it really is. :)

I'm okay. I'm not stuck to my seat all day cramming too much irrelevant crap into my collapsing cranium. I'm okay. my scapula does not hurt from bearing over my humerus weights of fear and unprecedented woes. There's a noose around my neck too close for comfort and my body hangs by a single thread. And yet, my knees are still intact my vertebrae straight as I stand and my ribs aren't broken although my lungs burn bit by bit, with every passing second. Still, I'm okay. Because really, I could be  feeling a lot worse.

...and this has me written all over it.

I think I've finally taken these masks That I've been wearing for too long off. And for once In a very long time I have never felt quite prettier. Thank you.

I don't think anyone could ever understand how messed up and tangled my thoughts become when I'm sad and depressed. I fear, and I fear fatuously of things that are out of my control. And when I do, a thousand voices haunt me in my head, and they intertwine and overwhelm me. Until I couldn't breathe. Until all I could do is cough and gasp for air. I wonder if anyone else feels that way, to be suffocated by their own thoughts. And it all starts when I'm back in my room, enclosed by walls. White for pessimism, gray for bleakness, and finally, blue for melancholy.  And that's the thing. I can't hide my emotions away from people and I hate it. I hate how people can just read my expressions so easily and that I'm no different from an open book. That's just it. I didn't choose to be morbid and emotional. I never asked for the twisted privilege of being able to overthink and overreact to almost everything that happens to me. I never wanted to be ...

There were nights when thunder bellowed through the windows and raindrops fell like silver coated darts she sat in bed, covers drawn lost in thought. There were nights when the shadows stirred nostalgia seeped through the ceilings and cascade  down the bedroom walls. Her nightmares haunted ghosts from her grotesque past faces she vowed to never see again. She would wake up  her screams echoing the room darkness fills her lungs limbs, too painful to move. Outside, street lights would not stop flickering the stars  were nowhere to be seen. And the night sky  a phantom black looming over her scars would soon devour her heart.