no longer do i know who i am. sitting in class, dreaming of bourbon & johnny depp & violins. the day hangs in the air like a broken record. i walk, in funny lines, with people who seldom touch. though-
"touch is all." (ANNE SEXTON)

"If you would've left," they say. but they don't know. i couldn't leave. i was locked up inside of him; a prisoner of the lie. night by night, he would crawl into my window, and haunt me in my dreams, as my eyes fluttered like the butterflies he gave to me. because he was there, he said. always there to occupy the loneliness of my soul. and so i trusted. i knew no other way.

in many ways, he made me a child again. innocent and vulnerable in a rotten world. the ugliness became beautiful as it had been before; i had something to trust. and it was bliss- i swear it, it was. it was the color that glowed in my eyes, it was eternal purgatory. it was something i couldn't ever understand- though i tried many times. it was the feeling of a healed broken heart, a never-ending rainbow.