I want to transfer what I feel to you just for five seconds so that you may understand me better.
Why do I feel like you have to treat me better?
What is there to even do better?
There is something so heavy and scary crawling around inside my chest and when it can handle its lack of oxygen no more it threatens to climb out and take the form of a full-blown panic attack.
I can feel my face heat up in fear of the unknown and sweat form under my armpits.
Death kills me every time I think of it.
The thread in between my fingers is slipping.
The needle I used to have it looped through is stuck in the flesh of my thumb and it's sore.
I want to pray but I'm afraid.
My heart is ill.
Even if I tell you all these things you will tell me I just need to "stretch".
