sometimes the things that sit in my mind feel like they’re one tiny gust of wind away from blowing over
spilling out
stretching themselves like spilled paint on canvas, dying to reach more
stain more
once i let go though
let the wind take over
i find myself calm, like the air after a storm
i still feel the remnants of my pain on my tongue
like swallowing my own blood, i knew i had done some damage
but it feels so good to let it out
i wonder if i hurt you when i tell you all the things i think about
how much pain you put me through
how i still feel my eyes ***** when i think about it
i don’t want to hurt you
not all the time anyway
sometimes i just want you to understand
to empathize
i guess letting out the air in my head only relieves some of the pressure
because as soon as things get quiet again
i’m up to no good
so i’m teetering on the darkness of my own thoughts piled onto each other,
fencing in the pain until just one gust of wind starts the cycle all over