Beneath The Fog

All my life, spent thinking, crying, getting hurt and falling in love too fast. I say all my, life yet there is still much to come.
4am i still can't sleep. mum's not gone to bed yet - most likely dancing to herself - in fact i think shes the only one left, everyone left atleast two hours ago. i can hear her starting mamma mia songs. Someone drag the leftovers of my flesh out of this house before it burns.

coming down for breakfast was a struggle this morning. as it is every morning slowly taking every step and always tripping on the second from last, getting a bit disorientated, finding my feet again and walking to the special k and my bowl - aparently it's supposed to be a fruit bowl but i never seem to think its enough -
"you have the exact same every morning Amie. I'm starting to think its your special ritual or something"
"mum a ritual is actually -"
i was quickly cut of by my extremely rude mother, but this always happens when i try to jam some sort of knowledge in her brain