It's hard, you know. I try not to let it get to me as much as it does. Every day is different. At first, i didn't think about her a lot. Slowly, though, she started coming back, creeping under my skin, in the corners of my brain. Now, i wake up with her on my mind and it just fucks me up. It makes my mood deviate from decent to horrendous. At first, i couldn't really cry either. I still can't, truly. I have what I like to call "floods". They come at the most unexpected times. they hit me like a punch in the gut, and I, with my frail skin and weak knees, fall. I have difficulty breathing, if i'm breathing at all. I usually make it worse for myself, because i want to. I hit myself where i know it hurts the most, and i bleed and i bleed and i bleed. Then, as all oxygen leaves my body, i'm left as nothing but a lump of pain, cut skin, and saltwater. I'm left there to die in slow, excruciating pain, blood dripping from where my heart used to be.
9/11/14
1:41 p.m.
YOU ARE READING
we were calamitous
Poetry"you and i were meant to collide like silken streaks across the velvet sky, we were meant to burn burn burn and rise up again from the ashes."
