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My throat closes

Every single time

When I want to speak or let myself be heard, I close

I let others speak for me. In whistling tunes I found through the Tube or stories as told by those who live them

I find it is not my time to speak.

For only when I am utmost alone can I even utter a single sigh and still it displeases me of its occurrence

Perhaps voiceless to allow others the space they might need to be themselves. So why am I upset of it

Meek and meager
Never there when you need her
Your silence is louder than a train wreck.
This is heaven
I’m in heaven
Heaven sent from the clouds above
This location
Of God’s creation
I never thought I’d see
I never want to leave

Heaven inside you
Heaven is all true
Heaven’s been on my mind
Heaven within me
Heaven forgive me
Is heaven just in my mind?

Heaven is in her arms
But it’s hell without you here
I got inspired by I Monster and their track Heaven a few months ago. Figured I’d put this on here
Everything is Alien
I Don’t know where I’m at
Warped spaces, in transit faces
Straight lines don’t exist in this dimension

Was it a pull or was it a push
It wasn’t my gut and it wasn’t a fluke
My brain feels like it’s splitting from the inside
And I don’t have claws to scoop it out

Everything is alien
I don’t know who you are
What is a you and what is there to do
When surroundings shapeshift and change perception

What is even happening, response flight or fight
Everything now is shaded in doubt
Everything is Alien now

Everything is alien
I don’t know who I am
What is my name, where is my mind
I can’t even breathe, I know something’s not right

Everything now is shaded in doubt
Everything is Alien now
Don't say it
Oh, don't say it
Saying it changes everything

It's in your hands
The royal flush of my blush skin
You've got the cards to tear all I am from within

May your lust consume from March to June year after year
Before it's much too late for your sick guilt to disappear

All that's said in bed, young nymph lessons, life's not dead
Echo out those ancient stories in my head
Just how I won't say it first
Narcissus can't find the words
Lips so soft and silent
Actions not unspoken
Free me of this sickness
Get me out of my mind
This virus in my body
Keeps me awake at night

And I wait under the covers
Take my drugs, suppress my fever
But it's something I can't sweat out
The tightness in my throat
The aching of my bones
Burning behind my eyes oh tell me why why why why

I can't shake you off
I can't believe it
Dust inside my lungs
From breathing you in
Every cell in me has been contaminated
Put me under quarantine

Fires burning in my head
Don't think I've even left this bed for days
Time slips
And spills away
Keep getting sicker
Haven't found a way
To treat my symptoms or find my cure
I don't know what I'm looking for
As the hours pass, all I can think
Is how you (went and) infected me

And I'm so sick of feeling wrong
And coughing up my ******* lungs
Every bit of my being's getting worse
I became a victim of it first
I'm patient zero
And until I find you, then
I will never be healthy again
My mind is going weird again and hurting my head
I don't know what to make of it

I think
I want a male me
Or just me. I want another me. Doesn't necessarily have to be male. Can be female. Why not both. But I want another physical and spiritual embodiment of who I am as a person

A part of me just wants to hug and hold someone. And my head is automatically choosing said person, but the feeling of the mere hug and contact is overshadowing the identity of the person by a few degrees

I miss calloused hands roaming my body. And I miss body heat. I miss legs I can entangle mine with. I miss the crooks of necks. I miss snores emanating from a chest and hearing the rumble in the air from it. I miss tired faces resting and appearing destressed. I miss light groans as a body shifts positions in their sleep.

I think I can pinpoint what it is that I miss. Because although all sound like physical and verbal responses, it is not the actions, although they always go hand in hand.

I think I miss intimacy. But what is necessarily intimacy?
There's a few definitions as soon as one googles it
A close familiarity or closeness. A private, cozy atmosphere. A closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject.

My chest aches and pounds as I try to put my finger on what it is I'm searching for. The more it aches, the closer I am to finding my answer

Intimacy.
In-tih-mah-see.
In-to-me-see.
See-in-to-me.
Intimacy is to see in to me.
It is to let and allow someone to see you for who you are, to know what makes you a being.
But not necessarily in your head.

Intimacy is the knowledge of how another person's mind control's their body. How the body reacts to acts that can cause the mind to blank or move forward just off-beat of the body.

It's dragging your fingertips over their body and feeling the goosebumps rise as a laugh comes from the mouth over the words "popcorn butter is actually coconut oil with artificial flavoring" and feeling your eyes connect the dots between those goosebumps to their face and your brain noticing the connection between noises and nerve endings.

Intimacy is a weird state to be in. Because too much can cause the mind to blank and overload itself with serotonin and dopamine. All the while there is never enough time in the world to drag on that forever feeling
It's the act of getting lost in a person and discovering bits and pieces of how you affect said person.
In body, in mind, in response

I think I'm done because I don't know how else to frame my words. My head hurts and my chest pounds with equal force. I believe it's time for me to bid adieu and deal with this in the dreamscape
A collection of texts I sent to my friend while my thoughts ran rampant
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