Dear Perfect Me,
You still haven't wrote like your life depends on it.
Take a breath and breathe because this is only a moment in time.
The time gets rough and the storm builds up. Bottling is all you can do to suppress the storm inside you. You try to cope by breathing and distracting.
Breathing and distracting.
Breathing
Breath only takes you so far. The overwhelming silence builds up inside of you as you try to figure out how to be better. How to act better. How to not be the center of attention.
Distracting
Distractions only work for so long. The chaos inside builds up. You can see the chaos inside. The waves unyielding and the fire ever so hot. Nothing feels right. The right thing doesn't exist here. Not in the unbearing moment.
The sky is hailing down in your head and you are just one step from entering it. The pain was caused by nothing.
Nothing is but just a ghost created by me. Unseen, unheard, but felt. Overwhelming there. Just like a ghost its there to bother.
Just there and there to stay.
Anxious
