Ever have that moment where a thought crosses your mind?
Just like any other random thought?
But this thought, causes you to stop in mid stride.
Makes words stop flowing from your mouth when in conversation.
The thought makes your face immobile.
No expression upon it...
Or emotion appearing within the eyes.
Almost like a mask, portraying a veil that covers what you wish not to be seen.
Everyone has those moments...
Sometimes when you're alone, or when you're around others.
That thought reveals a moment from the past that found its way into the present.

I forgot to fill my prescription.
How is it that I always forget something that makes such an impact on my life?
Without it, I am not myself.
or am I more myself?
Who is to say that depression and anxiety aren't characteristics as opposed to mental illness?

A chemical imbalance of the brain.
That's how the doctors describe it.
That's how we describe it,
To make ourselves feel less ashamed.

So I forgot to fill my prescription.
Sometimes I think I forget purposefully.
Is it possible to cautiously make a sub-consous choice?
Cause' I think I might.
I think I do it to make myself feel alive again.
**** being able to "function".
I don't see functioning as living.
I truly feel alive when I allow myself to indulge in the pain.

Treating the emotional agony as something that I shouldn't feel, only makes me feel more ashamed of it.

So instead I indulge.
I don't cry.
I don't cut.
I don't expose.
I indulge in my inner sadness.

It makes me feel like a rebel.
Indulging makes me feel more alive than the actual act of living.
And that terrifies me.

I terrify me.

I see you everyday, the quite girl a million miles away. Head in the clouds or in a book.
I find myself stuck to your hook. And as you pull me to the shore I feel myself sway away.
I'm under your spell. Is this heaven or is it hell?  Your a million miles away. Yet I see you everyday.
A shooting star I cannot catch, the flickering light of my last match.
I can't tell if this is a broken romance. I know you can feel it too. Will our vindication please come through.
I don't want to be the one to utter: I missed you.

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you collect them like rain,
Store them in jars,
That are labelled with "Pain"

Would you follow their tracks,
From my eyes down my cheeks,
As they write all their stories,
I'm too scared to speak.

Would you stop them with kisses,
Bring their flow to a halt,
As you teach me that pain,
Isn't always my fault.

Would you hold my face gently,
As you dry both my eyes,
And whisper the words,
"You're too precious to cry"

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you show me your own,
And though we're lonely,
We were never alone.