When I think of you, it feels like someone has filled my chest with liquid nitrogen. I freeze from the inside out, until my pale skin becomes snowdrifts and the fault lines in my bones sink to subzero. It's so cold it burns. When someone begins with, "Hey remember when...", I want to run away. I want to curl up in the corners of libraries, the backs of classrooms, or the edges of my bed. I like these places because they are where I want to make friends, but sadness soaks into my skin and anxiety feels more like suffocation than a state of mind. The absolutely pathetic realization I have on those precipices is that no one wants a girl who can't say anything, but says everything anyway.
YOU ARE READING
Revelations
PoetryIt was really me. It was really you. There was really nothing we could do. To put it concisely, these are short, philosophical situations, feelings, and thoughts of different persons and personalities I've encountered.
