I'm not going to hope that it is me.
Because, likely,
It is not.

I say: be mine,
And you say: I'm yours,
So... you are mine?...Really mine?

I want you,
And you want me,
Is this really happening?

We kiss,
We share love...
Is it the real love?

WOW WOW WOW
If this is real
Then we are the happiest people that lived
In this world.

Yeeey!

I'm in a closed box
With tape on the top
Don't have any scissors
Have to use my fingernails
Scratch Scratch Scratch
Doesn't work
****
Maybe I should shout?
Let me out?! Let me out!
No one is listening.
I look through the slit
Through the clear tape
I touch my hand to the top
Of my cardboard box
All I see is white outside
I go to curl up a bit
Moving my hand,
But I can't
It sticks
To the top of the box
And I tug & pull
But it doesn't come off
I let out a small sound
I prop my other hand
On the side
And then I realize
That it's now also attached
****
Panic creeps into
The back of my brain
I pull very hard
But to no avail
I start to scream and thrash
As my skin
Touches the box
It sticks
And now I'm still
Still as can be
The box is holding me
Prisoner
The more I tug
The more I feel
Myself getting tugged
Towards it's surface
What is it's purpose?
I put this box in
The back of my brain
Long ago
What was in it?
I really don't know
Or I just can't remember
I'm overly uncomfortable
Then I realize,
I'm in it
And it's trying to consume me
I shouldn't have done it
I put my, myself in this box
And I tossed it into
The back of my brain
I have to refrain
From screaming in pain
As the box let's go of
My skin
I hear the schick schick
Of the tape peeling off
The top of the box
Opens very quietly
I stand up and stretch
Afraid it'll happen
Again
And get out of the box
Before it changes it's mind
And I look around
It's all white
So, this is what the inside of
My head looks like
Boxes upon boxes
Are stacked up like skyscrapers
I see some scissors
Lying beside the now open
Box
I look around again
Then I grab the scissors &
A box,
Slash the tape
Hoping to find all of
Myself again

Sometimes we pretend to be dead
So that we can remain alive.

It's for the better.
This pushing away.
Even though it's the hard decision.
I can feel myself lift slowly,
from the muddied ground of
myself.
I'm becoming my own person again.
I make my own decisions,
and have my own opinions.
Because you're no longer there
to whisper in my ear.
No, you're not completely gone.
But the metal chains that once bound us,
are loosening as I pull
away.
Because the closer I get to you,
the further away I am from everyone else.
And I can't live like that anymore.
I can't live in my own bubble where all I think and
breath
is about you. Not anymore.
I couldn't bare another day,
to be alone.