Everything inside me feels like it’s swollen. If I could paint a picture, my body would be presented as a hollow shell. Only for it to not be hollow.. but filled with swelled emotions, swelled veins, swelled brain, swelled heart, swelled lungs, all pressing against one another squeezing and creating immense pressure becoming more and more intense with each conversation and each go through. Im back to constantly beating myself up again, feeling everything I’ve been trying to let go of. I hate the sign of the twin, I hate the indecisive, I hate the two sets of emotions, feelings, thoughts, and decisions. A side of me feels like everything everyone says about me is true a list is as follows: I can’t get right, I’m childish, I’m too emotional, I’m too soft, too sensitive, I lost myself, I lost my light, I’m dulling out, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I blow in the wind, I never care, I’m lazy, I’m not dependable, I’m not there, I’m emotionally unavailable, I’m an ***, I’m too rough, too aggressive, too submissive, too dominant, too one way too the other, too withdrawn, too quite, too isolated, too not in control. A list of my flaws.. a plethora of things that float around in my head flying from side to side, bouncing off the walls cracking the cranium of my skull slowly feeling it fracture with each tap, slowly oozing out the deepest darkest things that not only I feel but think about. The seemingly identical twins but immensely different, only narrowly scraping the walls of agreement.
I’m so deep down in my thoughts I can’t even write out my equaling entity because as of this moment she isn’t present. She’s locked in her switch chamber full of stairs white noise and a single chair with rubble all around from the deterioration in the shared mind.
The explanation is as follows :
I’m Inside my head or body
The Staircase of deteriorating mental anguish leading up to all areas of the mind
The temporal lobe .. frontal lobe.. parietal lobe.. occipital lobe.. cerebellum.. falling into my brain stem where the center will cradle the space of a single chair
One sits in the lair
While one rules the flesh
In the frame, the one will sit somewhere on the stairs because neither is content in that space
Neither could sit still in a chair surrounded by white noise.. or crippling expressions
She sits on the steps with her hands balled over her head in a fetal crouch as the ruble bounces off her body as if she’s ready for the whole surrounding area to collapse on top of her
While the other feels the pressure building up to the point of self-combustion
The two are seemingly different but feel most of the same things due to shared soreness
I’m truly trying my hardest at this point .